


No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

by ab2fsycho



Series: I'm the Chip You're the Dip [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood Play, Bondage, CNC, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment Kink, For reasons, I'm rude, Jealousy, Leashes, M/M, Master/Slave, Or Is It?, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sexual Content, Tentacle Porn, all the nsfw, blame xIrelandx, but nothing overdone, cecil voice yes, chapter 4 is gonna be rough on the feels, fear kink, figured i'd put that, guys listen to me, i don't want anyone to get triggered, i wanted to add more tags, i'm trying to break out of my vanilla-ness, is this an excuse to write porn?, it was a joke jsyk, it's gonna happen chapter 3, just in case, like you hadn't already guessed, looking for surprised people, love you luke!, marking with a knife, otherwise known as consensual nonconsent, possessive bill, possible rape threats, probably will have a plot but only a little one, sharp teeth and talons are fun, so much nsfw, that's not fun, there will be blood and gore, they told me i'm vanilla and now look what i've become, very very dubious, violence kink, worship kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill Cipher can give Dipper all the knowledge he wants on one condition: he must belong to Bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm a member of this group *cough*cult*cough* called billdipnet and one night we had a conversation that led to me promising five chapters of the dirtiest, filthiest smut I could muster. Some legends say I'm the most vanilla writer, so I'm going to challenge myself.
> 
> I'm gonna laugh if this is still the softest porn ever.

“Tell me what you're thinking.”

 

Dipper hesitated. What did one say to a demon who had him tied up and was offering him a chance at unlimited knowledge? The answer seemed obvious, but the price . . . it seemed almost as heavy as the golden collar Bill was offering him seemed to be. Gulping, he chose honesty. What could it hurt? “C-can you stand back a little?” Because Bill's complete and utter lack of respect for his personal space was making it really hard for him to think. “It's making me . . . nervous.”

 

Bill hummed. “Please,” his voice dropped an octave, “continue to be nervous.” His pointed teeth grazed Dipper's ear as he hissed, “I like the way anxiety looks on you. And the answer is no, in case you hadn't guessed.” Of course it was. Dipper grit his teeth and tried not to think of Bill's body against his. It would be so much easier if not for how they had come to be in this situation in the first place.

 

This had started in his dreams. He hadn't known to suspect anything. He hadn't known to feel threatened. All he knew was that it felt really, really good and he was starting to wake up with his sheets stained. He started off embarrassed, truthfully. It didn't matter how many times he received the 'it's totally natural for a teenaged boy' speech, he was still somewhat concerned by the frequency.

 

At first he didn't recall the dreams, only woke up with the warm sensation of having had palms caress certain areas of his body and a wet spot on his boxers. He never recalled seeing anything, just feeling. He could hear, but usually he only heard the sound of his own breathing. There was never any indication that someone else was present. Well, other than the hands that slid over his chest, across his throat, down his sides, down to his nether regions, stroking him, applying pressure to his entrance, teasing him . . . Jesus, he could get hard just thinking about it. Every now and then he'd feel a body press against his back and those were the nights he woke up a sweaty, panting, practically screaming mess.

 

When he discovered who was behind those dreams, he was less than pleased. In fact, said dream had ended in the middle of him being stroked and touched, back pressed against an unseen individual's front as hot lips and breath darted over his neck and shoulder. The hand had slowed for a moment, and he'd gasped out, “Please don't stop.”

 

The response? “I like the way you beg, Pine tree.” He'd jerked upright in his own bed, shrieking in terror and yet still burdened with a massive hard-on. He heard Bill's laughter echoing even after he'd woken up. From the sound of it, he was having a blast.

 

He'd avoided going back to sleep for a long time, convincing himself he could evade the demon and the embarrassment of having played into his hands. Until now. Now, he was faced with a decision.

 

“My . . . my family doesn't have to know?” he stammered, trying hard to focus on the dilemma and not the way Bill's breath ghosted over the skin of his cheek, neck, and shoulder.

 

Bill hummed, and Dipper was once again struck with how ridiculously attractive Bill had made his human form. It wasn't fair. No human being with or without eyesight could deny his attractiveness and knowing that those hands were the ones that had stroked him so many nights without his knowledge only served to make his stomach turn more. “If you  _want_ to walk around outside of the mindscape with this on,” he shook the collar in his hand, the metal making a small clinking noise that actually intimidated Dipper, “don't let me be the one to stop you.” Dipper shook his head. The demon could see him hesitating, tugging nervously at the bonds on his wrists. He knew that Dipper wanted this at least a little. Dipper knew  _he_ wanted it. Bill hovered closer, body pressed fully against Dipper's side as he whispered directly into his ear. “Think about it, Pine tree. All that knowledge, yours. All those secrets, uncovered. You are already so important to the citizens of Gravity Falls.” A hand slid up Dipper's bare back, making him tremble. He'd tried desperately not to think of the fact that he was naked. Naked, bound, and vulnerable in the presence of a demon who was asking so much of him. A demon who could so easily take him. Dipper's breath caught on that thought as said demon tilted Dipper's head upwards and mused, “Savior of the town, protector from the great unknown. Go ahead. Brag about what you've already accomplished without me.” Bill chuckled, the sound making the hair on Dipper's body stand on end. “Then imagine what you could do  _with_ me. As your guide. Your lord.” Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, a moan escaping his throat as he shuddered at the words. “I only ask of you one, simple thing.” The hand not bearing the collar slid to grip the back of Dipper's neck and the young man couldn't help whimpering at the golden gaze boring into him. “Let me rule you.”

 

Dipper quivered at the press of Bill's lips to his cheek, squirmed at the thought of being controlled. That's what this was: control. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't let himself forget that that's what the demon was truly after, no matter how he phrased it. He was trying to phrase this like Dipper had a choice, like he had at least some ability to change his mind in the matter. Honestly he was starting to grow frightened of saying no to the demon.

 

But his touch was so warm, and the need to know what knowledge he possessed was so tempting . . . .

 

Dipper closed his eyes as Bill's tongue skated over the shell of his ear, the demon practically panting as he watched Dipper begin to cower at his offer. Would it be so hard? To submit? To be enslaved? From what Bill described, it should be easy. Dipper could continue as he typically did, he could solve all the mysteries and be the hero of the town. That was all he'd ever wanted. He had just never imagined Bill would be the one providing him with the knowledge that would give him that kind of power. He never imagined he'd even consider an arrangement like this. He had also never imagined enjoying the way Bill's hands could tease him, work him open, make him beg and plead . . . .

 

It wasn't fair. It simply wasn't fair how easily Bill had sneaked back into the forefront of his mind without the courtesy of letting him know that his dreams hadn't been dreams at all, but real and just . . . he was afraid. He was excited and afraid, and he didn't know what to do in this situation. Every fiber of his being was screaming no, but the memory of Bill's touch told him to accept this offer. Not fair, he continued to think. He hated how easily he was giving in to this . . . seduction.

 

“I just,” he hesitated. It was hard to think with the demon so close (hot breath in his ear, on his neck, eyes so bright it felt like there was a light burning right beside his cheek) and no way to push him away. “I just . . . I get all of this stuff, and I just,” his voice cracked and trembled, “belong . . . to you.”

 

“Body, mind, and soul.” He couldn't tell if the shivers that sent down his spine were ones of fear or titillation. It didn't matter. Either way, the demon was groaning in his ear, eyes half lidded while the hand grasping Dipper's nape was massaging and caressing. “It's not so bad, Pine tree. You'll enjoy what I do with you.” A deep chested purr escaped Bill and Dipper was struggling. He was truly struggling to keep focused. “In fact, you already have.” 

 

Dipper gasped, cheeks and neck tinted red at the reminder of what they'd already done together. “That doesn't count. I didn't know it was real,” he squeaked out. He should be uncomfortable. Well, he was, but not nearly as uncomfortable as he should actually feel. He should feel violated by what had happened, what had been happening. Instead, the recollections only served to depict the sort of treatment he could expect in the future if he accepted. Only this was Bill Cipher he was dealing with. He had to know that wasn't  _all_ he should expect.

 

The demon didn't mock him for his concerns this time, though Dipper knew he very easily could have. Instead his tone turned serious as he said, “There is still time to back out. You should feel lucky I like you this much.” The hand holding the collar drew back slightly and Dipper felt himself start to panic. “Otherwise I wouldn't offer you the chance to say no.”

 

Dipper's hands twitched in his bonds, and he didn't know what was coming over him. Was this a trick? It had to be. Bill was just trying to entice him more. He hated to admit that it was working, as he was beginning to think this wasn't as bad an idea as he originally thought. His suspicions let him bite out one last question, though. “What's the catch? There's always a catch with you.”

 

The laugh was much more sinister this time, and Dipper was caught between flinching and freezing to save himself from what might follow that sound. “Oh Pine tree,” Bill cooed, “what could possibly be more shocking than agreeing to be,” his voice dropped to a soft whisper, “my little bitch?” Bill laughed as Dipper tried to push away with that, the hand on the back of his neck tightening. “You honestly think,” he struggled to say through his mirth, “there will ever be anyone else who can touch you like I can?” Bill released his neck and something, a shadow or hand or other entity, spun Dipper around so that his back was to the demon. One of Bill's arms encircled Dipper's waist, holding him close as the other cupped his chin while still holding the collar. “You think there's someone else out there who can make you beg the way I can?” Bill drew back and the entity spun him again so that he practically fell against the demon's chest. He squealed shamefully when the demon steadied him by grabbing Dipper's bare ass. “Make you scream the way I can?” Bill chuckled. The demon's eyes flashed dangerously as he snarled, “The thought that such a person might exist really makes me angry, Pine tree.” Dipper was stuck staring up, face completely flushed and eyes pleading for mercy, space, anything that might help him gain some ground on this battle.

 

What a silly notion. They both knew Dipper was already losing. All Bill had to do was shift his hips against the human's the slightest bit and he'd feel just how triumphant he already was. Dipper shouldn't enjoy this. He shouldn't enjoy this at all. He shouldn't like being surrounded by darkness, bound with ropes, or being held against a demon who'd taken advantage of him in more ways than one. He shouldn't enjoy the way Bill spoke to him, made him promises of pleasures beyond measure all in exchange for . . .  _him_ . “I . . .,” Dipper didn't know what to even say. He gulped. “I . . . I don't know, I don't think I can—”

 

“How about another taste first?” And just like that, Dipper was on his knees. 

 

He panicked, but Bill was already sliding behind him and bending him over at the waist. “Bill?!” he cried.

 

“Hold this for me.” Suddenly the gold collar was shoved painfully into his mouth, his teeth protesting against the metal as the demon hummed. “You might as well. It's yours if you want it.” And then Bill was rubbing his clothed hips against Dipper's rear and Dipper was terrified to drop the collar no matter how much it hurt his teeth or how much he wanted to scream. His teeth ground against the metal as Bill started grinding against his ass and holy shit how was Dipper already so hard? Muffled cries escaped past the collar and he was lost. He was so utterly lost to demon's touch that the moment Bill's hand wrapped around his throbbing cock he was ready to scream his answer. Bill's hand was slow, movements calculated. He brought Dipper right up to the edge, but didn't let him go over. The pressure that built up in his abdomen threatened to implode and Dipper felt the collar slipping from his mouth as his jaw started going slack. “Now, wouldn't it be easier with that around your neck?” Clamping his teeth back down on the metal, he felt Bill's hardness abruptly press against him through the demon's pants. Oh God, no. Oh God, he wanted it so bad and he fucking knew he shouldn't. Keening brokenly around the collar he pressed his forehead into the ground and inadvertently raised his hips higher. The demon chuckled at that, hand still stroking him as the other slid from Dipper's hip, up his side, over his chest eventually to pull the gold from his mouth. Dipper's teeth hurt from the biting and scraping against the collar, but he missed the gag, the inability to speak, the lack of control. “Answer the question, Pine tree.” Dipper nodded hastily, his vocal cords refusing to work. Bill's laugh traveled up his spine as the demon's hips stopped moving. The hand still stroked though. The hand kept him on the edge, whimpering and sweating and almost begging for more. “One word could end this all for you, Pine tree. But,” he jumped at the same time as his heart skipped a beat, “with another single word, I can give you all I have promised and more.” Dipper's breath hitched. He was afraid. He was so very afraid, but something else sprang up inside of him and he just . . . couldn't say no. “One word, Pine tree. That's all it takes.”

 

“Master.” The word spilled forth from his lips and he didn't know where it had come from. His eyes went wide and Bill's hand stopped entirely, and the way the demon stilled made Dipper close his eyes, flinch, and anticipate danger. 

 

Instead, another much louder purr reached his ears and the hand slid from his nether regions. He was about to ask before cold, semi-wet metal draped across his nape and locked rather than clasped in the front. Dipper gasped, panting and eyes resuming their wide state as Bill leaned down and growled in his ear, “I would have settled for yes.” Dipper wasn't quite sure when the demon had moved, but suddenly Bill's cock was free and pressing against Dipper. A hand cradled his chin and something, a leash, tugged on his collar. Dipper's breaths grew more frantic as he felt talons growing on Bill's fingers, scraping his cheeks. “But I like the way you say Master.” Lips brushed the part of his nape that wasn't covered in gold now. “Say it again.”

 

If saying it again was going to make Bill stop stalling and just take him already, Dipper would drop every last word in his vocabulary except, “Master.” There was a split second where nothing happened, then suddenly Bill plunged into him Dipper didn't know whether to cry or scream or something like both.

 

The slicked entry was so abrupt and painful, but in one second Bill pulled out and Dipper was about to sob. Then Bill uttered, “Again,” the word followed by a low groan and a shudder through the demon that Dipper could feel.

 

“Master.” Bill filled him again, then pulled out just as quickly. Dipper would have been kissing the ground from the impact if not for the hand firmly gripping his jaw.

 

“Again,” the demon growled, and Dipper was starting to catch on.

 

“Master.” Bill thrust in and this time he didn't wait to be ordered to say it again. “Master.” Dipper keened at another thrust into him, the demon's hips snapping a little harder against him this time. Before he could think clearly or wait for Bill to respond, he was setting a pace by repeating the word the demon was so keen to hear on his lips and oh God it felt good. It felt incredible and painful and frightening and just so fucking good all at once as he shouted and moaned and whimpered the word, “Master,” over and over and quicker and quicker and he was ready to come. He was so ready to come, until Bill slid his palm over Dipper's mouth and forced him into silence. He could feel the demon's breath on his back as Bill ceased his movements and left small, teasing nips up and down his spine. Dipper sweated and whined into the demon's hand as he slowly came back down from the edge.

 

“You're easily trained. Good,” were the words whispered against his back before Dipper's brow furrowed and he started screaming against the demon's palm in frustration. Bill laughed, smile pressed to Dipper's back as suddenly his hands were freed and the leash was gone, the demon flipping him over onto his back. When his back hit the floor, knees aching from having been pressed into the hard ground, his head started spinning. His vision faded in and out as his arms were pinned above his head and something slid around his wrists to hold them in place. His eyes shot wide at the slimy texture of the new bonds and he wound up staring up at Bill, demon now straddling his waist and tossing a knife back and forth between his two hands. Dipper's eyes locked on the knife and his gut started twisting again, panicked cries leaving his mouth before something equally slimy slid in between his teeth and effectively silenced him. His mouth burned from the wet, black . . . appendage and he tried tossing his head from side to side to remove it only for the thing to tighten and wrap around his head to hold it still. He cried against the new gag, pulling uselessly against the bonds while looking up at a Bill who looked entirely too satisfied with how things were playing out. “Now then,” another black entity manifested and slid around Dipper's neck, squeezing just enough to make him go completely still with fright, “how shall I mark you as mine?” A small whine barely audible past the thing gagging him made Bill's smile widen further, eyes glowing blue as sharp teeth flashed dangerously. “My name in your nonsensical language? My name in my cipher? My wheel? There are so many options.” The thing around his neck tightened more and he grew lightheaded, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he struggled to keep breathing. Something pressed against his entrance and he arched upward toward the demon, a moan ripping from his lungs as the demon laughed and pushed his hips back down with his own. “How do you like my friends here? From what I remember, you rather enjoyed them.” Nights of dark dreams where hands roamed his body and stroked him returned to the forefront of his mind and he couldn't help but think that no, those hands had not felt like this. This wasn't the same. It couldn't be. “I know you enjoyed this,” and the entity teasing his hole suddenly plunged into him and his back arched again and he found himself biting down on his gag. It didn't respond at all to his teeth, nor did the thing wrapped around his throat let up even as he screamed at the feeling of being filled again. Bill hummed, then leaned down to press an almost tender kiss to Dipper's cheek before uttering, “Technically this is the first time I actually get to touch you and not just tease you with these.” He ran a finger over the black gag and the look he gave Dipper could only be described as predatory. “I was so looking forward to your yes, and I must say,” the thing inside him began thrusting and the noises Dipper made were purely hysterical, “you don't disappoint.” The demon laughed again, sliding down Dipper's body as the knife settled in one palm. He disappeared out of Dipper's line of sight, fingers starting to circle the sensitive skin around his hipbone as he uttered, “A picture of me will do. And it'll go right here.”

 

A sharp point dug into Dipper's hip and the appendages around his neck, wrists, and mouth tightened. The scream that wanted to come pouring from his mouth drowned as his head grew lighter and the only sensations left for him to feel were those of being fucked while Bill dragged the knife through his flesh. The combination of pain, pleasure, and suffocation made parts of him go numb and yet somehow he couldn't think of a single time where he had been harder in his life. He couldn't think at all, vision hazy and mind fogged over from the overwhelming stimuli. He vocalized what he could, mouth filled completely enough for every noise to be muffled but not enough to choke him. No, the appendage that was actually choking him didn't need any help. So little breath made it past his compressed throat that the lightness was causing the numbness to grow more pronounced, and soon the feeling of being cut open was just as pleasurable as the appendage moving in and out of him without faltering or pausing. His eyes closed and he gave into the sensations, feeling himself nearing the edge once more and just as he was about to teeter over it he let out a cry much louder than the others.

 

Then yet another entity wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezed so hard his insides tightened and he couldn't come. He simply couldn't. He cried out against the gag, tears gathering in his eyes as his frustration began to manifest in the form of broken sobs. Meanwhile, the demon laughed and continued carving into his hip. Tears spilled down his face as the appendage on his neck loosened, allowing him more breath than he'd had before. With breath came realization and the return of the pain of the blade being dragged over his skin. Bill was marking him, fucking him, claiming him as his.

 

He was Bill's.

 

Bill was his master now.

 

And all he could do was lie there and take it.

 

His fists clenched as the knife retreated along with the gag and the thing that had previously been suffocating him. With it gone, he could feel the collar's weight once more and that pulled a broken sob from his now free mouth. He couldn't tell what was causing him the most distress: the knowledge that he'd just sold his soul for some additional knowledge or the fact that the appendage that had once been inside him was retreating also. He closed his eyes, feeling the dark slime on the corners of his mouth and the tears running from his eyes. His hip was sore, but he couldn't look up to see what Bill had done to him. His hips couldn't even buck up after his cock was released and the demon's cheek brushed against its leaking tip while he licked the blood from the wound he'd made. Dipper just stayed still, chest heaving as Bill's tongue ran along the lines of blood and marred flesh. The wet, hot muscle stung as it lapped up the blood on Dipper's hip, Bill's talons digging into his side enough to make him gasp. Pulling in as much air as he could, he started to ask through the tears and heaves, “Bill, please—”

 

“What happened to Master?” Dipper bit his lip, clamping his mouth shut and holding his breath as he continued squeezing his eyes shut. “Bit late to be having second thoughts, Pine tree.” He knew. The collar was a heavy enough reminder. A finger passed over a part of his raw injury, bloodying itself before coming up to Dipper's lips. “You should taste yourself, my pet. I think you'll find yourself rather . . . delicious.” Dipper hesitated before gasping again, lips parting to allow Bill's finger to slip into his mouth. The metallic taste of his blood hit his tongue and he didn't know if it was because of the slimy appendage that had previously been in his mouth or the lack of oxygen and blood in his brain. Either way, his blood suddenly tasted delectable and he found himself tonguing the demon's finger. His tongue circled the digit and sucked until all traces of the flavor was gone and when the demon pulled his finger from his lips, claw scraping the human's tongue lightly, Dipper dared to open his eyes and look at him. What he saw was Bill Cipher, breath hitching and eyes narrowed on Dipper like he was starving and Dipper was to be his first meal after God knows how long. It was Dipper's turn for his breath to hitch when Bill's hands went to his waist and gripped his sides hard, talons biting into his skin and making Dipper groan and whimper. “You've been very good, Pine tree.” Bill positioned himself between Dipper's legs and Dipper continued vocalizing with a need that burned him from the inside. “If you ask nicely, I might let you come this time.”

 

Dipper swallowed hard, blinking as the word 'might' sank in and he decided to lay it on as thick as he could. He picked his words carefully, trying his hardest not to stammer, “Please, may I come Master Cipher?” He should have been disappointed in himself with how desperate he sounded. He should hate himself for pitifully reducing himself to begging for this.

 

But a growl escaped the demon's lips as he lifted Dipper's hips enough to thrust into him once more, forcing Dipper to throw his head back and keen at the sudden breach. He lost all sense of self-loath as Bill's hand wrapped around him again and started pumping. Dipper all but screamed as the demon, Bill, his Master watched him with glowing eyes as he pounded into him in time with his strokes. Dipper reached the edge much quicker than before, bracing himself for an abrupt halt that would utterly destroy him. When it didn't happen and his insides finally grew hot from the start of release, he held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut only to see white. He shuddered as come spilled from his tip, a sob of relief falling from his lips as Bill stilled his movements and spilled inside of him. Bill almost fell forward, hands bracing on either side of Dipper's head as the last of the appendages released Dipper's arms. He couldn't bring himself to move, however. He was stuck, a panting and sweating mess trapped beneath an equally out of breath Bill Cipher.

 

His Master.

 

He actually didn't flinch as Bill lowered his head enough to kiss the part of Dipper's neck that wasn't covered by the collar. “Good boy,” he whispered, the words making something flood Dipper's stomach. He wasn't sure that was a good sign yet.

 

Before he could stop himself, he whispered back, “Thank you,” his throat hoarse from practically screaming, he tacked on, “Master.” He was going to have to get used to calling him that now, he supposed.

 

Bill hummed against his cheek, pressing his lips to the side of Dipper's face before whispering, “I'll see you tomorrow night, then,” Dipper's eyes fluttered open to find himself in his room just as the demon uttered in his ear, “pet.”

 

He lay on his bed in the attic for several minutes, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. When he tested his limbs, he found the only thing holding him down was drowsiness from just having woken up. A hand slid from beneath his pillow to run over his throat to find there was no collar weighing heavily on his neck. He stayed still for a moment, breathing somewhat heavily as he tried cataloging the condition of the rest of his body. In the end, he discovered that none of the feelings and sensations he'd had in that night's dream had carried over into reality. All he felt was the warmth of just waking up and a need to get out from under his comforter. Sitting up slowly, he discovered he was wrong on that account. Sighing and pushing back the covers, there was indeed a telltale wet spot on his boxers.

 

Sliding his legs off the bed and to the floor, curiosity took hold and he found himself staring at a still clothed portion of his hip. Heart pounding, a tremor of fear shot through him as he wondered if he would find anything there if he lifted his shirt. He scratched part of his arm, wondering if he should just wait to look when he took a shower that morning (because the only way he wasn't going to feel disgusting after last night would be if he showered). But he couldn't wait. He had to know. With trembling fingers, he took hold of the hem of his shirt with one hand and slid his other hand under his boxers. Pulling back the clothes, his whole body stiffened and his eyes widened as he found himself staring at an already scarified image of a certain triangle demon.

 

He swore he heard a laugh when he uttered, “Fuck.” He wasn't even sure two showers could remedy the way he felt at the moment.

 


	2. Chapter 2

There was an image online of a fish jumping between a black backdrop and a white backdrop, and the fish changed colors and even changed shapes with each leap to fit into the world it had splashed into. What made the image all the more perplexing was how it rotated hypnotically with the fish's movements. Dipper imagined that fish was fucking exhausted by the time the viewer stopped watching the gif long enough to continue scrolling.

 

Going to sleep stopped feeling like rest and started feeling like jumping through a portal into a new world. He went to sleep to get to the mindscape and went to sleep to return to reality. In reality, he was in Gravity Falls researching and doing what he had always done. In the mindscape, he was . . . also researching. In a way. Unlike in reality, he had a guide to help him when things stopped making sense.

 

Also unlike in reality, he usually wasn't wearing clothes while he worked.

 

“Can I at least have some underwear? I get this feeling I'm gonna end up with a splinter in my ass.”

 

“You're guaranteed to get something else entirely going in that direction, but the answer is still no.”

 

Dipper's face, neck, and shoulders turned a brilliant shade of red as he turned away from the demon entirely, hunching over a book and some notes he'd been working on. He spent most of his time sitting at this wooden table, surrounded by the information Bill provided and the notes he'd previously taken. He'd become a rather attentive note taker, as there was never a guarantee the demon would provide the same information twice. As uncomfortable as he was dealing with Bill while entirely nude, the research was still invaluable to him. True to his end of the deal, Bill had made Dipper so much greater in his pursuit of knowledge and credibility in Gravity Falls.

 

But he also still proved to be a rather annoying adversary.

 

“Why can't you just chain me to the chair?” Dipper cried as Bill tugged him away from his work by the leash.

 

“Maybe later. For now, I'm making sure you behave while I'm gone.”

 

Whether it was because Bill truly was physically stronger than him or he was simply being compelled to do so, Dipper had no choice but to obey and follow the demon. That didn't mean he didn't have anything to say about it. Struggling against the taut line of the leash, Dipper was still being dragged from his research as he protested, “By the time you got back, I would have been done with everything! Then . . . then—”

 

“You could do whatever I want?” Bill laughed aloud as he brought Dipper to a halt in a seemingly empty space. The mindscape warped to look whatever way Bill preferred, and at the moment the dungeon feeling Dipper was getting from his surroundings only served to make him more uneasy. He wanted to be back in the study room looking area he'd just been in, not in this place. It made him . . . squirm. “Oh, you're already doing everything I want you to, pet. Besides, what good is getting your work done when I'm not there to fine tune your search?”

 

Dipper's eyes narrowed. “So you're just gonna lock me in here until you get back from . . . whatever it is you're doing?”

 

Bill hummed, placing a finger to his chin and looking up inquisitively. Then he grinned and responded, “Not quite.” The demon dropped the leash and snapped, and for a brief moment Dipper thought he was free.

 

Until his wrists were yanked upward and he was being suspended inches from the ground by those black, slimy appendages that Bill was sometimes fond of. Dipper screamed, kicking and pulling at his arms in an attempt to get down. “No no no,” Dipper cried, looking to the demon with wide eyes. “No, you can't leave me here like this!”

 

Bill's smile was nothing short of sadistic as he watched Dipper fight and fail to free himself from the bonds. “On the contrary, I can.” The demon's eyebrows lifted mischievously. “And I will.”

 

“No, please! Bi—Master, please let me—”

 

“Aw, and you were so close to using the magic word.” Bill gave a fake pout before snapping again.

 

A slick tentacle slid around Dipper's head, covering his eyes and pulling yet more screams from him as panic ensued. “Master, please let me down!” he begged, his arms already starting to burn from being stretched out and forced to hold up the rest of his body. He tried pulling himself up to give them at least a little relief, but instead wound up slipping and just pulling his muscles more. He cried out and whimpered, now more anxious because he couldn't see what the demon was doing.

 

Bill snickered. “I'll tell you what,” suddenly Dipper's toes brushed the ground and he quieted, sighing from an early onset of exhaustion when he could stand on the balls of his feet and give his arms some relief, “that's as far down as I'll let you go. You did _try_ to ask politely, so I'll cut you some slack this time.” Dipper gasped and jumped when a clawed hand clutched his chin, heart pounding in his chest as hot breath blew across his ear. “Now what do you say when I've done something nice for you again?”

 

Dipper cringed at the pointed teeth that grazed his earlobe, but hastily answered, “Th-thank you Master.”

 

The demon purred, “Good boy,” and placed a small kiss to the side of Dipper's neck that sent chills over the human's body. Settling in his bonds, Dipper caught himself leaning towards the demon's touch as Bill pulled away and started to take his leave. “Now be good while I'm gone. If I feel froggy when I get back, I might be willing to provide you with some clothes for you to wear while you're doing your work.” Dipper perked up a little at that, then quickly focused on what exactly the demon meant when he told him to be good. There was only so much he could do while Bill was gone now. “No underwear though. Underwear is stupid and pointless.” Dipper sighed. Bill would think that. “Oh, and one more thing,” another snap, one that made Dipper jump. Then another appendage wrapped around his head and slipped between his teeth to silence him. He shouted against the tentacle, pulling on his bonds once more as Bill laughed at his struggle. “Have fun kid. Be back soon!”

 

And then everything was maddeningly quiet, and Dipper was left dangling by the wrists, blindfolded, and gagged all by the same slimy things that had once fucked him senseless in a similar darkness he was trapped in now. To say that he was unnerved would be putting it lightly. Pulling against the things and dancing on the tips of his toes, he gave up when he realized that no matter how much the tentacles gave they always pulled him right back into place. He bit down hard on the one in his mouth, but garnered no response. All he got was its ooze running down his throat and he was forced to swallow it lest he choke. Shaking his head, he was equally unsuccessful in his efforts to free his face. He whimpered, then proceeded to curse the demon while he thought he was alone.

 

Alone. He was alone, right?

 

Dipper's paranoia kicked in right then and there, and he froze instantly as he asked himself if Bill would actually do that to him. He didn't know. He had no idea anymore.

 

And that was about to drive him crazy.

* * *

 

Did Bill really have other things to go and do? Yes. Did he really need to take a long time to accomplish those things? No. So why leave Pine tree dangling like he had done?

 

Because it was such a nice treat to come home to: his new pet, writhing and vulnerable.

 

Oh, and did he look so vulnerable. As soon as Bill was done, he came back to watch the human's nostrils flare and his chest heave. Pine tree was still now, trembling with his head hanging slightly. He stood on the balls of his feet, trying to give his arms a break from the stretch his weight caused. Bill could just imagine the thoughts running through the young man's head, the panicked screams if someone were to walk up to him and touch him right at that moment. Dear hell, the fear practically poured from Pine tree's pores as he shook and whined periodically during his entrapment. It was amazing the way the human's fear affected Cipher, the way it drove him wild just imagining how much more terror he could make Dipper Pines feel. Well . . . terror, among other things.

 

With the flick of a wrist, he sought to see what more trouble he could cause for his pet. He watched as another tentacle emerged from the floor and slid up Pine tree's leg. The human jumped, scream muffled by the gag before he started calling out in spite of his mouth being filled. Bill could almost make out the cries, hearing a mixture of his name along with his new favorite title: Master. The human continued his outcries all the while the tentacle slithered up his calf, along the back of his thigh, before finally stopping and probing his entrance. Dipper Pines jerked at the sensation, growing louder before falling silent. His breathing grew shallower and Bill could hear the air that flooded his lungs, hear the heart pounding in his chest even at this distance. He moved closer, desperate to hear more of it as the tentacle started the slow and arduous process of preparing the young man for him. As the demon commanded it to pick up the pace, Dipper's jaw went slack and he lost balance before moans became audible through the gag. Bill watched his body buck, cock hardening as the tentacle did its job. The demon's own member was growing stiff as he watched the emotions play across the young man's entire being, the mixture of fear, disarray, and complete and total surrender to the pleasure provided to the human mesmerizing Bill. The way his lungs begged for breath, his muscles tensed and flexed, his thighs quivered, his toes curled, there was just so much to take in and watch. Of all the things, Bill's gaze locked on his pet's throat. With the way his head was thrown back, Bill could see the apple bob every time the young man swallowed, could practically feel the air fighting its way from nose to lung if his hand hovered just over that throat. And oh, how he wanted to just grab that throat and feel it work beneath his fingers.

 

He stood close enough to Pine tree that if the human lurched forward even a little he would slam into the demon, but his pet was coming apart before him to the point that he'd completely given up on trying to stand. His arms must be absolutely burning by now, and Bill was beginning to feel less like watching and more like just grabbing and devouring this loathsome yet entertaining creature he'd captured for his own. Moving quietly around to the young man's backside, he commanded the tentacle to be gone. When it slipped out from inside Bill's pet, the demon's eyes flashed possessively as Dipper keened and jutted his hips backwards in a bid for more. Bill didn't have to look to know the human's tip had to be leaking by now, and the way he just  _presented_ his ass . . . how could Bill say no? His pet may as well be twisting his arm (or something else actually).

 

But the demon was still ever a tease. What could he say? Pine tree deserved it, and the way the young man squirmed was just . . . beautiful.

 

Bill stepped forward, sliding his hands first over his pet's buttocks. Dipper screamed and jerked again, vocalizing with each breath as the demon's hands ran over the contours of the human's body. Again, he could almost make out the desperate cry of Bill's name, of the word 'Master,' and he contemplated relieving the human of his gag. As he pressed himself flush against Pine tree's back, however, he found it was much more delightful to feel the uncertain shivers run over the human's body as he continuously tried to confirm that it was in fact Bill rubbing his palms up and down his pet's torso.

 

The demon's lips made contact with the human's neck, brushing over the collar before he pressed his mouth to the young man's ear and whispered, “Don't worry, my pet.” Oh, how the human relaxed against him. That was unexpected, but also . . . rather nice. “What's the matter? Did you think I would let someone else come in here and touch you.” The notion was so ridiculous to him, but judging by the way the human tensed and whimpered . . . oh. Oh, he was scared. Bill could almost inhale his pet's fear, and damn if that wasn't the most intoxicating thing about Dipper Pines. Oh, Bill could use this. “Then again, you are mine.” To emphasize the last word his hand slid up and gripped Dipper's throat as the other pressed on his pet's abdomen, keeping the human's rear firmly against his groin. He felt the young man's pulse racing under his fingertips, and it was intriguing how such a small, fluttering motion could drive the demon up the wall. Bill's hardness grew as the young man tensed and shivered again, airflow ceasing as terror began to build within him. “If I so desired,” Bill breathed harshly against the human's neck, “I could let anyone in here and show you off to them.” There was a bead of sweat trickling from Dipper's temple, and Bill got stuck watching it slide down the young man's face as his body tensed in his hands. Lovely. Absolutely lovely. “Maybe, if I feel so inclined, I'd even let them,” he pulled his head back to switch sides, now breathing into Dipper's other ear and dropping his voice even more, “put their hands on you.” At that, the human shrieked against his gags, fighting his bonds and Bill's grip on him before the demon dug his claws into the soft (almost too soft) flesh. Dipper stilled again, but didn't stop whimpering pitifully as Bill drew blood with his nails. “I have no doubt some would want to just,” he ground against his pet roughly, drawing out another shriek that was music to his ears, “take you and tear you open. Then others,” the hand on the human's gut clenched slightly, digging sharp talons into the young man's middle and leaving trails of blood in their wake, “would tear you open in other ways.” His pet shook, and Bill knew he was ready to sob by now. He buried his nose in his pet's hair, shushing him as he kissed trails along his neck and collar before uttering, “Don't worry.” He allowed the tentacle lodged firmly in the human's mouth to slowly emerge and recede then. “I wouldn't actually let anyone in here. I wouldn't let anyone near you at all if I could help it.”

 

When his pet's mouth was free, the hyperventilating started and the demon knew his pet didn't believe him. Pine tree coughed several times, trying to calm down enough to form coherent sentences. Then he spat out the very loud, very despairing question, “Why would you tell me something like that?” His voice sounded almost broken and Bill should have probably felt a bit of remorse over having upset his pet so terribly.

 

But honestly, “You look so amazing when you're afraid, my sweet. But,” he could feel his eyes going black from the thoughts he was starting to have, “you should be more afraid of me.” His hand left Dipper's throat to run over the human's cheeks. He found that some tears had escaped the tentacle keeping him blindfolded, and hurriedly wiped them away. The human trembled in his arms, whines of varying degrees of intensity escaping his gaping mouth. Bill's voice was hoarse, almost a growl as heat started radiating off his skin, “True, I could let any and everyone into my residence and see what I've done to you, what I continue,” he didn't grind so much as slam his hips against Dipper's this time, pulling a shocked cry from the human, “to do to you. But I,” he slid a hand to his pet's cock and good, he was still so very hard for him, “do not,” he started pumping him slowly, the human gasping and moaning needfully as he thrust into the demon's hand, “share.” Bill's hand left Dipper's neck and face to undo his pants. The young man moaned even louder as he heard the sound of the zipper, and Bill loved it. He loved how much his pet keened for him, flexed and moved for him, and oh hell he just needed to hear more of him. Closing his eyes and freeing himself, he pulled his hand from his pet's cock and the sound of dismay he made was just too, too delightful. But the thought of someone else doing this to Pine tree ( _his_ Pine tree) the thought of someone even  _looking_ at him and  _watching_ him the way Bill did . . . fingers dug painfully into the human's hips and Dipper started shaking again. “I am a very,” Bill's voice dropped dangerously, body growing more and more heated the longer he thought about it, “ _very_ jealous Master, just  _thinking_ of someone else doing this to you,” he held his pet still as he pushed into him swiftly and without warning, biting back a moan of his own in favor of listening to Dipper's shouts, “makes,” he pulled back out and thrust in again harder, “my blood,” another much rougher thrust complete with such sweet and gorgeous cries from his pet, “boil.” Before he said anything else, he sank his fangs into the human's shoulder, pulling the loudest cries he'd heard from the young man yet as blood poured into his mouth and he pounded into him. Releasing the now raw and torn flesh enough to swallow the blood already sliding down his throat, Bill's voice turned husky as he asked (just to be sure he hadn't truly broken the human, they tended not to answer when he was too rough with them), “Who's fucking you right now?”

 

He didn't let up, and was amused at the way the human stuttered out, “Y-you, Master Ciph-pher.”

 

Bill thrust particularly hard at the sound of his name and title, ringing a most beautiful cry from his pet's lips. “And who else is allowed to fuck you?”

 

Dipper didn't answer immediately, so he slowed his movements enough to allow his pet's thoughts to catch up to him. When he answered, it was almost a pathetic whimper, “Whoever you want, Master.” In those words, he could almost hear the unsaid plea for him not to share him with anyone else.

 

What an intriguing answer, and an even more intriguing appeal. While correct he felt the need to pause all other movements in favor of wrapping an arm around Dipper's waist possessively, tangling a hand in those brunette locks to pull his head back, then finally whispering directly into the human's ear, “And do you actually think I would let anyone else have you?” He grew hotter and he was starting to see red over the thought as Pine tree squirmed at the heat and whined over still having the demon inside him but not moving. It was a miracle the human was almost helpless in his bonds, because if he could move his hips any more than he was already doing Bill would forget the point he was trying to make and just fuck him already.

 

His pet's answer came out as another tentative whimper, “No, Master.”

 

Dipper flinched as Bill laughed in his ear, the sound low and dark as the demon's hands slid back to their place on the human's hips. “Good boy,” he growled, slamming into his pet again as his mouth went back to work on that luscious shoulder of his.

 

The noises Pine tree made, fucking hell they were perfect. Sometimes he got so busy plotting ways to bring them out that he didn't fully enjoy them, but goddamn he was loving them now. Lapping greedily at the blood, Bill was very rapidly approaching climax and he was feeling generous enough to let the human come as well. Then again, he might also have wanted to hear what Dipper sounded like as his final thrusts angled towards a certain bundle of nerves. When he found his target, he simply could not suppress the half moan half growl that his pet's screams pulled from him. Bill timed his movements enough so that both of them came at almost the same time, his release emptying into the human as he continued drinking from the wound.

 

And damned if the sound of his pet panting in the aftermath didn't sound wonderful too.

* * *

 

Dipper almost didn't catch himself when the appendages suddenly dropped his arms and his legs buckled under him. When the tentacle left his face, he kept his wet, red eyes shut for a little longer. Leaning weakly on his palms, he managed to shift so he was lying on one forearm while the other wiped at the goo and tears from having panicked over Bill's teasing. He didn't know what issue to address first: the fact that Bill was a fucking asshole who had successfully scared the everliving fuck out of him, or the fact that he was now so sated he didn't think he'd be able to walk even after he woke up. How the hell he was going to explain that to his sister, he had no goddamn idea. Either way, Dipper was wrecked.

 

But of course, Bill was now bursting with energy. He didn't even need to open his mouth for Dipper to figure this out, as the leash had already manifested and the demon was tugging on it insistently. “Come on, pet. You wanna get your work done, right?” Dipper wanted to growl at him, wanted to snap, but he barely had the vocal cords to groan. His throat felt hoarse, his shoulder was burning from the bite, his body ached terribly, and he didn't see himself getting up as quickly as Bill wanted him to. “Pine tree,” the demon lilted, pulling hard enough that Dipper almost fell forward on his face, “let's go.”

 

“Just wait, please,” Dipper begged, reaching up to wipe his eyes again. Dammit, he should be pissed at Bill. He certainly didn't like the way the slickness felt between his legs, or how cold the sweat on his body was starting to make him feel. The aches were annoying, albeit pleasant. The bite hurt like hell, and he _hated_ the fact that Bill had tied him up and _left him_ before jokingly _threatening_ to let people _take advantage of him._ He should be furious, but instead he was . . . startlingly . . . was it possible to still be turned on after an experience like that?

 

And to top it off, Bill had to ask, “Please what?”

 

He wasn't sure he would ever stop hating himself for not minding as much as he should. “Please, Master?”

 

Bill hummed, “Good boy,” and Dipper didn't have the energy to keep the intensifying blush to himself. Then it was ruined by, “But the answer is still no. No waiting.”

 

Dipper sighed loudly, throat still very sore. “Master—”

 

“But I have a solution,” the demon said excitedly before the leash disappeared. One minute Dipper was on the ground and still hurting from the hellishly great sex he absolutely should not enjoy, and the next Bill had ignored all protests and whines in favor of carrying Dipper bridal style back to his research.

 

The transition from ground to arms hurt at first, but once they were up and moving Dipper let out a somewhat relaxed breath. With one of his hands clasping at Bill's shirt for steadiness, he uttered, “Thank you, Master.”

 

He could feel the pleased noise Bill made before hearing it. “If I'd known you'd like serving me this much, I would've made you my pet sooner.”

 

The human grimaced. “Fuck off.”

 

Bill laughed. “You were so close to getting some pants, too. Pity.”

 

Dammit, Dipper thought. “But . . . but—”

 

“Nope. Now you're gonna have to suck up.”

 

“Or I could just summon my own pants.” Jesus, why hadn't he thought of that earlier? It was the mindscape. He could summon whatever he wanted, right?

 

Bill shook his head. “Not while you're wearing that collar. You can summon what _I_ want you to, and that's the end of it.” The demon laughed again as Dipper balled the fist in his clothes and slammed it against Bill's chest. “Keep fighting, Pine tree. You'll never see the clothes I brought you.” And then he was unceremoniously dumped into the chair he _had_ been sitting in before Bill decided to string him up with tentacles. Pain and discomfort shot through him and he arched his back and let out a cry. “Back to work, kid! Sun's rising.”

 

He was right back to fucking hating everything about the demon.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read, I added some tags warning that this chapter features CNC. Also, Bill finally put a safeword in place.
> 
> This chapter did NOT go according to plan and I am still mad. Master Bill is now Bitch Master Bill in my eyes.

So Dipper Pines had made a stupid mistake, and he was paying for it. In retrospect perhaps a serious case of blue balls was far more endurable than what Bill was doing to him now, but at the time it was really fucking difficult to deal with being brought to the edge only for everything to come to a sudden halt. Bill had been doing this to him ever since he'd allowed Dipper to start wearing one article of clothing: a sheer pair of what looked like black pajama bottoms. The material was so thin and clung to certain areas of his anatomy so well that he actually felt more exposed wearing them. They definitely caught the attention of the demon who'd provided them for him, as Dipper found himself being pulled into Bill's lap more and more often, pants yanked just low enough for Bill to tease him without actually giving him release. Of course the demon thought it was both hilarious and enticing seeing Dipper frustrated like this, but it had gotten to be too much for him.

 

Maybe the simpler solution would have been to just stop wearing the pants. Dipper would forever blame his raging boner which refused to be ignored for any longer the morning before he realized his mistake. Instead of being logical about anything, he'd just picked through his clean clothes and gone to the shower. There, he turned on the hot water, stepped in, leaned against the wall, and let the water cover him. After a few moments of relaxing into the heat and failing to ignore the mark Bill had carved onto his hip, he closed his eyes and conjured up the most recent situation the demon had forced him into. He imagined himself clearly as if he were in the mindscape; he was sitting at the table reading when the demon had pulled the chair back with him still in it. Shoving Dipper forward and up, Bill took the seat and the human hadn't bothered turning his head to inquire about the sound of the demon's fly being undone. This had become such a normal occurrence Dipper was disappointed in himself for still blushing and getting hard over the demon sliding the human's black pants down. When Dipper was pulled back onto his Master's lap he found himself with legs spread wide while being penetrated by the demon, who expected him to continue reading or writing what was on the table in front of him at the same time. It wasn't like Bill didn't know how difficult this was for him, he definitely did and he continued to do this to him on purpose. Worst of all, Dipper would probably love it . . . if he was allowed to come at all, that is.

 

It was to these thoughts Dipper had stroked himself to, keeping his voice down and managing to stay focused on the scenario long enough to finish himself for the first time in . . . he didn't want to think about how long Bill had been doing this to him. He didn't want to think about how long he had been the demon's pet now. He was now irrefutably the most educated individual on the supernatural goings-on in this town, but at what cost?

 

Right now? Right now as Bill punished him for masturbating, the cost was his sanity. “Master, please,” Dipper begged, eyes watering as he lay across the table with his hands bound behind his back, forcing his spine to arch and his knuckles to dig into the hard surface. Meanwhile the demon leaned over him and watched his every move with unblinking eyes, fingers rubbing and pressing and just _abusing_ his prostate as he forced the human's body into a state where his insides felt like they were coming apart without him actually coming. What had started off as his Master ordering him to rub himself on his thigh and bring himself to orgasm without the use of his hands had very quickly devolved into this torture. The demon grinned as notes and pages stuck to Dipper's sweat covered body and he deviated from panting to screaming to just lying still with his mouth agape while the demon forced his insides to splinter.

 

Bill was enjoying this form of punishment far too much, which shouldn't have surprised Dipper at all. “I'm just giving you what you want, Pine tree.” A particularly rough thrust of his hand made Dipper keen and arch more into the pleasure that was steadily becoming more painful. “I mean, what kind of Master would I be if I didn't make you orgasm for me at least . . . how does ten times sound?”

 

“Ten?!” Did these moments of utterly blinding pleasure that left his body tingling actually count as orgasms? What the fuck was Bill doing to him?

 

Having way too much fun with Dipper's body, that's for sure. “I thought that sounded like a good number. Or should I up it to thirteen? Fifteen? Twenty?”

 

“No!” Dipper shook his head, eyes shut tight and breath hitching. No, there had to be a limit on the number of those . . . moments one could have. Couldn't a human theoretically die from this? He didn't want to find out. “No, please Master—”

 

“While we're doing this,” Bill interrupted him, “we're going to play a little game.” He drew his fingers away and Dipper let out a series of huffs while suffering from the latest tingling sensation to hit him. The break, while blessed and appreciated, was only so relieving as he felt Bill's teeth on his earlobe. He hissed before the demon explained, “You're going to tell me no, and I'm,” the hand returned to that area between his legs and Dipper wanted to cry from the overstimulation, “going to keep doing what I'm doing anyway—”

 

Dipper panicked as he stared up at Bill, begging and interjecting, “Master—”

 

Bill's free hand covered his mouth and he closed his eyes again, whining into the palm as the other hand stroked much slower than before. “Listen while I'm talking, pet. This part is important.” Dipper nodded, returning to panting as Bill's hand slid from his mouth to his neck. Dipper felt the demon feeling his pulse as he continued explaining, “But if you actually do want me to stop what I'm doing and aren't just protesting for fun,” why the fuck would he do that? Dipper wanted to ask but didn't, “I want you to say my name.”

 

Dipper's brow furrowed more. “Bill Cipher?” He sighed gratefully as Bill pulled his hand from between the human's legs to demonstrate the rule.

 

“Just like that. Simple to remember, right?” Dipper's lungs burned as he nodded, eyes half-lidded as he stared up at the demon. Bill's eyes bored into him as he declared, “This rule applies even after this punishment. Understood?”

 

“Yes,” he struggled for air, “Master.”

 

“Very good.” Dipper closed his eyes and flushed at the praise. “But you're not a good boy. Ready to continue with your punishment?”

 

Oh God, did he dare? Brow furrowing and chest heaving, he nodded. “Yes Master.”

 

Somewhere in the middle of Bill forcing him to orgasm multiple times in a row, Dipper discovered that he was in some much more dire straits: he found that he liked this game in ways that perhaps he shouldn't. As he screamed for Bill to stop at the top of his lungs only for the demon to laugh and ignore him (and he liked it, oh dear God did he like it), he came to the conclusion . . . that he was in deep shit.

* * *

 

Dipper didn't often ask for advice, but when he did it was usually pretty weird. This was certainly one of the strangest bits of advice she'd had to dole out to her brother. “I'm taking up writing,” he began. He clarified, “Fiction. Not journal stuff. I'm taking up writing fiction.”

 

“Okay?” she said as they picked through their lunch. Mabel didn't miss the touch of pink in her brother's cheeks. “What kind of fiction, exactly?”

 

“Um . . .,” he fiddled with his fork, but didn't actually eat, “a mix of genres, really. C-can I ask for some advice on a character?”

 

Mabel shrugged. “If you value my advice that much, I think I can provide.”

 

“Okay, um . . .,” Jesus, he was turning red. Was he writing smut? No. She couldn't see her brother writing smut. She didn't even want to imagine it. She almost spit out her food right then and there. “This character really likes another. Well, actually no. They don't like each other, but they tolerate each other. They have a . . . mutually beneficial arrangement. It-it's not really a big thing in the story, except for this one scene where—”

 

“Shove them in a closet and make them make out.” He stopped at her interruption, eyes going wide. She shrugged again. The suggestion seemed reasonable enough to her.

 

He held up his index finger for several seconds before uttering, “No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and she almost thought this was just some elaborate way of him asking her for relationship advice. It wouldn't be such a farfetched theory if not for the fact that Dipper was never seen with anybody. More importantly, he was never seen being overly awkward with anybody. So she nixed the idea that this was actually a convoluted way of him asking about himself and trusted that he was genuinely writing a work of fiction. “So in this story, character one does something character two really likes—”

 

“Is the nature of this thing sexual?” He pursed his lips and nodded. Wow. Okay, really wow. Dipper what? She had to fight extra hard to swallow her food to keep from spitting it out before asking, “So . . . what's the problem?”

 

He rested his forehead in his hands as he asked, “How does character two get character one to do it again?”

 

Mabel narrowed her eyes on her twin. “Dipper, are you getting laid?”

 

“No!” he shouted, looking up quickly.

 

Jesus, okay. She believed him. “Well,” she twisted a piece of hair with her finger, “my first instinct is to just ask directly—”

 

“It's not that kind of relationship.”

 

Okay, whatever that means. “Um . . . maybe character two could provoke the other into doing it again? You know, repeat the events that led up to the . . . thing?”

 

Was that a look of pain on her brother's face? Yes. Yes it was. She almost wanted to read this thing, now. “Let's just,” he pursed his lips again and laid his hands flat on either side of his plate, “say that's boring. People don't wanna . . . they don't wanna read the same thing twice.” If she didn't know any better, Mabel would say he was sweating. “How else might character two do . . . the thing?”

 

Leaning back in her chair, she stared up at the ceiling. “You know,” she mused, “you could write the scene differently. Like, you could make it so that character two doesn't do the same exact thing, but still does something similar yet different enough to make character one pay attention to them.”

 

Glancing to her brother, she saw a figurative light bulb go off above his head. “That,” he sighed, “might work.” He smiled at her, a hint of anxiety showing clearly on his red tinted face. “Th-thanks.”

 

She nodded. “Just promise me you'll let me read it, okay?”

 

He made a strange high pitched noise before uttering, “When it's finished. Maybe then.” She snorted at her brother. Goodness, she needed to set him up with someone soon. Those hormones just might kill him.

* * *

 

Okay, so provoking Bill wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. He didn't want to masturbate to invoke another punishment of that nature. He also didn't want to make Bill jealous. The glimpse he'd caught of the demon's possessiveness that one time Bill had left him tied up had been enough to tell him that pissing him off that way was a  _terrible_ idea. He was glad there had been no repeat of being tied up and left dangling. He guessed Bill got what he wanted out of that.

 

But Dipper was having a hard time getting what  _he_ wanted out of this. He started by shrugging off Bill's touch, getting up and moving away from the demon when he started pulling him close. He'd done this before in the past (granted he never had ulterior motives like now, he genuinely wanted the demon off of him) and had learned that this was the quickest way to make the demon determined to get him away from his studies and doing . . . other things. Completely against Dipper's usual behavior, he ignored the research he'd been working diligently on in favor of garnering a similar reaction. Normally he was so totally focused on finding magical items or hunting down certain creatures or solving a particular mystery for a Gravity Falls citizen, but right now (for once) he was focused on the demon who owned him and how to get him to do something for him. To him. That sounded more correct. 

 

He could always just ask, but he didn't want Bill knowing he liked . . . that. He didn't want him to know he liked that thing, that game. So he settled for being bratty and hoping the demon caught on without actually catching on. It was about as complicated as it had been asking his sister for advice without coming out and saying, “Hey, I'm getting screwed by a demon in exchange for knowledge behind everyone's backs and I think I actually like the sex more than I wanted to.”

 

“Someone's touchy tonight,” the demon mused, breaking Dipper's concentration. It was actually angering. Dipper was sure any other time, the demon would be annoyed to the point of just picking him up and taking him by now. But no, Bill just stopped pursuing him and sat down in the chair Dipper usually planted himself in, leaning on the table and folding his hands as he watched the human with curiosity. “What's the matter, Pine tree? Still upset with me for punishing you?” 

 

Dipper rolled his eyes and grumbled unintelligibly. “What do you think?” Go with it, Dipper, he's presenting an opportunity to lie.

 

“That you should keep your hands to yourself? Your hand can _not_ be as good as me.” Dipper glared as hard as he could and shoved the stack of books closest to him over. He almost rolled his eyes again, this time wanting to direct the gesture at himself because even he knew that was weak. Putting more distance between himself and the demon, Bill smirked and leaned back in the chair. “It's cute how you think this is bothering me.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” Of fucking course. Bill was playing with him. Why was he even surprised?

 

“Something on your mind, Pine tree?” Bill lowered his head and steepled his hands. “Something you want?”

 

He knew. He had to know what Dipper was doing. That actually made Dipper angrier, as did the effect the demon's current facial expression had on him. He almost made the mistake of kicking the table, but thought better of it given the fact that his feet were bare (like the rest of him save for flimsy ass pants). Folding his arms, he snarled, “Shut up.”

 

“I liked your sister's initial suggestion, you know,” Bill leaned on the table again, drawing patterns in the table with his index fingers as he raised his eyebrows. “Shooting star seems well versed in giving that sort of advice, doesn't she?”

 

Dipper let out an exasperated breath as even his torso started to turn red over being found out. Now convinced his plan absolutely would have worked had Bill not been listening in on his and Mabel's conversation, he turned away from the demon and grumbled, “I hate you.”

 

Bill snorted loudly, and Dipper flinched as he heard the chair being pushed back. He didn't turn around though. He stayed facing away with his arms folded and the majority of his upper body flushed. Arms tightening on themselves, he almost felt Bill's heat as the demon approached. “While I love to see you red and chagrined, would it be so wrong if you admitted that you liked this?” Dipper didn't answer, and the demon didn't seem interested in waiting for a reply. “It's not like I'm going to let you go. Might as well make yourself comfortable.” Dipper tensed as Bill's lips touched to his shoulder first. Then the demon was sliding between him and the table and the feel of his Master pressing against his back was maddening in so many ways. Dipper had to fight to keep still and remain resolute. “It's fun for you to resist and be petulant, but it would be so much easier if you just,” a finger ran down Dipper's bicep and he fought back a shiver, “told me what you wanted.”

 

“I tell you what I want literally all the time,” Dipper griped without thinking before he spoke. The finger on his arm stopped in the middle of its way back up his upper arm. “You either ignore me or make things harder for me.”

 

Out of nowhere, a book dropped on top of his head and he cried out and reached up to hold the spot where it had hit. “Not true. I hold up my end of the deal, you hold up yours.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “You've been doing well so far, I have to admit.” He was so focused on trying not to take that as a compliment that when another finger trailed down his spine, Dipper actually did shudder. “You look so delicious when you're ashamed of something, do you know that?”

 

Then eat me already. Dipper stopped holding his head and covered his face with both hands at the thought. He hated this. He hated himself. He hated the way Bill made him  _want_ him like this. He thought he'd be over the self-loath by now, that he would have resigned himself to his fate. Bill Cipher's bitch. That's him. Now he was starting to act like it more and more and it was killing him. Sighing and giving up on his idiotic idea, he started pulling away and said, “I need to actually work.” He'd wasted precious time on something he should have known damn well wouldn't pan out. He'd been stupid to think the demon didn't watch him constantly even outside of the mindscape. Come on Dipper, he thought to himself. He caught you masturbating for Christ's sake.

 

He was successfully walking away from the demon, returning to his seat when Bill uttered, “No.” The leash materialized and yanked him to a stop. “You're going to tell me what you wanted.”

 

Dipper resisted the pull to turn toward the demon, the leash supporting him as he leaned against it and grumbled, “I don't want to.”

 

“What is it you like, my pet? Chances are I like it too.”

 

“Master—”

 

The demon's voice turned serious as he declared, “This is an order, Pine tree. Tell me what you wanted right now. Don't make me tell you again.”

 

Should he answer? He really should. He knew he should, but some stupid voice in the back of his mind told him to argue with the demon on this. What happened was . . . a mixture of both really.

 

Dipper turned to scowl at his Master once more, the words, “Fight me,” leaving his lips before his vocal cords froze altogether.

 

Balling his fists, he watched as Bill's head tilted before realization dawned on him. Dipper's heart raced over the fact he'd actually said it. The words weren't exactly what he'd had in mind for how this scenario would begin, but they seemed to have gotten the point across as the demon's smile twisted and he straightened up to his full height. “Oh.” The sound came out more pleased than anything else, eyes flaring blue before returning to normal again. “So it's like that.” The leash disappeared and Dipper felt paralyzed for a moment as Bill's face turned sadistic. Paralyzed and humiliated, complete with a side of anxiousness. Holy shit, what had he started? “You sure you don't wanna run first?” Was that a moan or a whimper coming out of his throat? Either way, Dipper was going to have a hard time doing anything just anticipating what was about to happen. Bill's chuckle was low and sinister, and Dipper watched in horror (enticement) as the demon started unbuttoning his coat. “We'll keep this simple. You. Me. Bare hands. That way,” his fangs and claws flashed dangerously as he undid the last button, “you at least  _think_ you stand a chance.” A chance? Was he joking? He didn't have one. He knew that. That's what he liked. Oh God, he was going to be sick with himself later. “And please, don't make this easy for me. I do love a good struggle.” He started tugging the coat off and Dipper braced. “I'm giving you a few seconds head start. Starting now.”

 

Dipper didn't question it. He turned and ran, unsure which emotion was currently flooding him at the moment. Fear? Excitement? Both. Which one was winning? At the moment fear, because he had no way of knowing when Bill was going to start chasing him. He wasn't given a time limit or a place to hide; the mindscape was shifting around him now, study area disappearing as everything blurred and made him dizzy. He just ran, and every time he stumbled he heard a chuckle that sounded like it was right beside his ear. The sound of his own breath and heartbeat thrashed in his ears, complimented by the sound of his feet hitting the ground. He was sweating. This had only just begun and dammit, he was sweating and the chill of the air was making him shiver.

 

He knew the time Bill had given him to get ahead was over long before the demon actually appeared. He felt his heat before anything else, and almost shrieked when he slammed hard into something and fell back to the ground. He scrambled up onto his arms, kicking away from the demon standing over him as he muttered, “Fuck.”

 

“That's the idea, my sweet.” Then his Master was upon him, grabbing at his arms as Dipper started to push him off. He tried kicking away, but the demon settled between his legs and clawed hands moved to capture his wrists and Bill whispered with a horrible grin still plastered on his face, “I hope this isn't all you have for me, Pine tree.” Dipper glared and balled his fist, punching the demon first in the stomach. His Master arched up and away from the fist, letting out a small gust of air before quipping, “I bet Shooting star hits better than that.”

 

“What the—fuck you!” Dipper threw another punch, this time at the demon's jaw.

 

As he was scrambling out from underneath Bill, the demon growled, “That's better,” before grabbing Dipper's calves and pulling him back toward him. Dipper let out a partial scream as Bill's hands went to his hips, claws stinging as they slipped below his waistband. Sinking his elbow into the demon's side, he was startled to have hit hard enough for his adversary to let go and for him to escape. He moved faster this time, getting to his feet and running again as the demon laughed lowly. He shivered, whimpering as he was pursued. He didn't make it far as Bill's hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked him to a halt. He almost fell and would have taken them both down had the demon not regained his footing. Bill picked him up with ease, crushing Dipper to his chest with one arm and trapping his arms in the embrace while his free hand held the human's head by the jaw. The mindscape blurred again around them, Dipper tugging frantically to free his hands as Bill hissed against his chin, “What a pretty, interesting thing you are.” A finger teased at Dipper's lips and Dipper started to bite at it only for it to pull away whenever he got close. Around them the mindscape settled, but he didn't try and make out any of the details.

 

Freeing one hand, he clawed at Bill's smiling face as he pulled at his other hand. The demon still didn't stop smiling, and the human tried kicking him only to find that it was more difficult doing that with his feet off the ground. The demon stepped forward, moving entirely too easily for someone carrying a whole person with one arm. “No!” Dipper cried, thrashing and twisting in the demon's grip as his heart raced and he started hyperventilating. He would have headbutted the demon had Bill not gripped his jaw so firmly. He shouldn't like this. He shouldn't enjoy losing like this.

 

“Be still,” Bill ordered, raking his claws down Dipper's throat and chest light enough not to draw blood but hard enough to leave welts. Dipper cried out in surprise before being thrown onto something soft. His Master chuckled. “Your body's not as durable as I thought, I see.” When he realized Bill had tossed him on a bed (which he had never seen, it had appeared out of nowhere), he started to roll off only for his Master to pull him so that the demon was standing between his legs at the edge. Bill ground against him once and holy shit, Dipper almost went limp in submission. The gasp that left him when Bill pressed a palm to the erection that was very clearly showing through his pants was so embarrassing he covered his mouth with one hand. “You really are enjoying this, aren't you?” Bill squeezed him and Dipper gaped and moaned against his palm. Weak, he was so weak. It was pitiful how he hadn't been able to fight his Master off for long, but fuck. Oh fuck, did he want this. “So my pet likes it rough?” Dipper nodded quickly. “My pet likes to be taken against his will?” Dipper hesitated to answer and Bill's eyebrow quirked (good God, the demon's eyes were so intense it was difficult to maintain eye contact). “You remember the rule, right?”

 

Dipper's mouth watered before he removed his hand and swallowed hard. “Yes Master.”

 

He didn't think it possible, but Bill's smile actually broadened. “Good boy. Now let's play.” The demon dropped his head and bit into Dipper's stomach, sharp pains flooding from the spot and arching his back as he howled. When Bill pulled away, there was blood on his lips and teeth. He gripped the human's hips and started grinding hard against him, sliding his clawed hands up Dipper's sides and leaving more welts that left him gasping.

 

Dipper tried digging his palms into the sheets and kicking up further onto the bed, but the demon quickly shoved him back down onto the mattress by the shoulders. Dipper knew he couldn't escape (he wanted it that way, oh Christ he wanted it), but he had to keep up the act of trying. The buzz in his head he got from this combined fear and pleasure was just too good to pass up on. He wanted more of it, and struggling was the only way to maintain it.

 

But Jesus, it was getting more and more difficult with the demon this close and this intimate. “Stop,” he murmured weakly, pressing his heels into the bedside in another failed attempt to push away.

 

Bill hummed and lilted, “You're gonna have to be louder than that, my sweet. You want me to hear you, don't you?”

 

Dipper huffed, stomach turning and wet spot forming on his crotch where his tip was leaking. “I said stop.” After a few more shallow breaths, he called out a little louder, “Stop it!” The demon chuckled and grabbed Dipper's thighs, claws piercing the fabric on his legs as his Master rutted against him harder. “No, please!” His eyes were rolling to the back of his head as he tried pushing the demon away with his hands only to have his wrists slammed down onto the mattress and pinned. “Stop!” He grew louder with each scream, and the demon got rougher. “Let go!” Oh God, he was going to come from this. “Please no!” He was going to come from this and he was never going to forgive himself for liking it. “Oh God,” he keened, thrusting against his Master in spite of the act. Then Bill stopped, pulling away altogether and leaving Dipper on the bed. Panting and whining, the human bucked in his Master's absence and all but shouted, “Why?” The word quickly turned from an annoyed question to an agonized plea.

 

And that only made the demon's expression twist into one more disturbing, one that made Dipper squirm as he took the initiative to crawl backwards onto the bed. He shook as Bill lurched forward, his movement so swift Dipper jumped and screamed at the dip in the mattress. His Master grinned as he crawled up the bed, one palm sliding up the human's trembling leg as he drew closer. Dipper couldn't move. He shivered, he panted, he watched fearfully (excitedly), but he could not move. He couldn't even fight like he was supposed to. This paralysis lasted even as the demon settled back between his legs (God Dipper was so hard he could hardly stand himself), hands sliding to either side of his waist and face moving closer to Dipper's neck. He could see the demon's still bloodied lips and teeth and pain shot through him from the bite Bill had left on his stomach. “My sweet,” Bill crooned against Dipper's throat, lips brushing his pulse as he spoke. A teasing nip pulled a whimper from him and he had to shut his eyes against the nerves that were steadily going wilder. “So pretty when you're fighting.” Dipper's breath hitched as he clung to the blankets beneath him, hands balling around the material fiercely. “Even prettier when you're shaking.” The lips on his neck made tears form in his eyes. He didn't mean for them to come, didn't mean for them to spill down his cheeks, but they did and he didn't feel comfortable reaching up to wipe them away. Dear Lord, why was he enjoying this so much? Why did he love this feeling he got whenever Bill did this to him? Just why? “Now that I've got you here,” Bill's mouth dragged from his pulse to his cheek before settling by his ear, leaving trails of red smeared on the human's skin as the demon's hands suddenly gripped Dipper's arms at the backs of his elbows and oh Lord he could feel the claws scraping against his flesh, “you must tell me.” The demon's thumbs stroked the skin that lay behind the human's elbows, and more tears streamed from Dipper's eyes as he bit his lip. “Do you like being so helpless?”

 

When he realized Bill actually wanted an answer this time, he managed to croak out, “Yes Master.” His voice was small and timid, and he was afraid Bill hadn't heard him.

 

But he had. “You like being overpowered by me?”

 

His groin and lower abdomen were starting to ache from the neglect now. With a small nod, he whispered, “Yes Master.”

 

“You like knowing I can destroy you with my smallest finger, don't you?”

 

“Yes Master.” He barely heard himself say it that time, blinking rapidly at the tears falling from his eyes. It was then that he glimpsed the intensity of Bill's burning gaze again and he had to slam his eyes shut to keep from turning away.

 

Bill actually purred at that, and Dipper felt like he was trapped under a coiled viper ready to strike at any moment. “Didn't I tell you that you'd like what I do to you?” Dipper had to bite his lip and nod, afraid that whatever came out of his mouth would not be a dignified answer at all. “Knowing how easy it would be for me to destroy you instead, doesn't this feel like a bit of a power trip, Pine tree?” Dipper stopped breathing to ponder the thought. He hadn't thought of it that way. It hadn't even occurred to him, and yet . . . it felt right. But Bill didn't wait for a reply. “Knowing that I probably won't do such a thing?” Probably?  _Probably_ ? Bill lay across him and suddenly he was lost, the demon's hips moving against his again. He gasped and whimpered, the movements so much slower and so much more torturous and oh how he wanted him. He wanted the demon and he knew he didn't have the strength or constitution to deny it. “Tell me what you're thinking,” Bill whispered, breathing in Dipper's ear as he shifted his hips against the human's.

 

Dipper blinked and went limp in his Master's hold. “I want you.” Bill slowed to a stop above him and went still. Panic laced through Dipper. Had he said something wrong? Was that not what he was supposed to say? He'd asked what Dipper was thinking, what had he expect—?

 

Oh. He was chuckling. He was  _laughing_ . At  _him_ .

 

Dipper lost it, pulling his arms free from the now loosened hold. Shoving the demon up off of him, he slammed his fists into his chest. He was about to scream when Bill started off, still shaking from the laughter, “What?”

 

“You _asshole_!” Dipper started kicking away and trying to get off the bed again, forearm rubbing at his eyes and wet cheeks as Bill grabbed his hips to keep him still. “Bill Cipher. Let go!” Much to his shock, Bill obeyed and released him. Dipper scrambled away from the demon, his Master still pursuing him though he now kept his hands to himself. Before the demon opened his mouth again, Dipper snarled, “This is _exactly_ why I don't tell you things!”

 

He was almost successfully off the bed, feet about to slide over the edge when the leash appeared and drew taut. Before he could really pull away, Bill had the leash wrapped around his fist and Dipper's head turned toward him. Dipper's eyes started watering again against his own volition as he was forced to stare into his Master's gaze. Had Bill's eyes been black, he would have thought he was about to die from how concentrated his expression had become. Dipper froze, afraid he had made Bill angry after all before the demon commanded, “Show me.”

 

Dipper's eyes widened. “Show you?”

 

“That you want me.”

 

Wasn't that what Dipper had been doing? No. No, apparently not. His glare came off more as a pout (he just knew), but he asked anyway, “How?”

 

Bill's smirk returned. “Use your imagination, my pet. How have I shown you before?” Dipper paused in staring at his Master. Was he . . . was he really? He couldn't be serious. But . . . he was. Dipper could tell by looking at him. For a moment Dipper was lost. How exactly was he supposed to take control of a demon? He thought of what Bill said, immediately conjuring up all the situations the demon had put him in thus far.

 

Then Dipper's frustration hit a bump somewhere and his glare strengthened. The next thing he knew, he'd shoved Bill back onto the bed and was pulling his bow loose. The leash disappeared again and as soon as he'd yanked the bow tie off, he popped a button pulling the white shirt apart. Bill hissed as Dipper bit harshly into his neck before straddling the demon's lap. Dipper gasped and almost pulled back from his hold on Bill's flesh as their erections rubbed against one another through their clothing. The front of Dipper's pants was practically soaked from his leaking, and he was desperate for relief. Reaching between them, Dipper undid Bill's belt and started pulling it from the loops. “Shirt. Off,” Dipper blurted out.

 

The demon grinned as he began unbuttoning his shirt at a pace that was clearly meant to tease Dipper. With a scowl Dipper shoved the demon's hands away and yanked the shirt apart. At least one more button went flying as the demon's grin turned into a sneer. “Have a little more respect for my clothing, kid,” the demon growled. At that, Dipper pulled the belt free and swiped the hat off Bill's head in the same motion. The demon glared as the accessory rolled off the bed and onto the floor. “Oh, you should not have done that.”

 

With more dexterity than he expected to have, Dipper had the belt around the demon's neck and had fed one end through the other. By the time Bill had finished his statement, Dipper had drawn the belt tight and a small gasp escaped Bill's throat. The demon's eyes fluttered partially closed for a moment, and Dipper loved that look. Half lidded was a good look for Bill's normally focused gaze. “Stop me,” Dipper growled, shivering at the words that had left his mouth. He knew damn well Bill could. Bill could so very easily stop him and force him back into submission. Instead the demon was watching him, which wasn't strange. What was new was how he was watching him. He was the one waiting now, the one anticipating.

 

Suddenly he fully understood what Bill had been saying about what a power trip this could be. Moving his hips against the demon's rhythmically, he gasped and moaned at the feeling. Pulling the belt tighter, he heard Bill let out a sharp breath before he grabbed Dipper's hips and sank his claws into the human's skin again. Dipper cried out, letting him grip his sides as the demon tried catching up with the pace. Dipper could easily see why Bill was always watching him, calculating his reactions. The reactions he was currently getting out of the demon were driving him crazy. Loosening his grip on the belt's end somewhat to reach down between them again, Dipper maintained eye contact to the best of his ability as he undid Bill's fly. Pulling the demon's cock free, Bill's voice was husky as he growled, “'Stop me' what?”

 

Dipper didn't miss a beat, and knew as soon as he said it he was going to regret it. “Stop me, bitch.” Bill's eyes shot open and he stared Dipper down with a ferocity he should not had garnered any pleasure from. He heard Bill snap his fingers, and before he knew what was happening his bottoms had disappeared leaving him nude and he was on his back again. Dipper's throat closed, gazing up frightfully at the demon again as he jerked the human's hips up and lined up with him. “Y-you—”

 

“Cheated?” Dipper went silent and started shaking again as Bill's eyes turned blue. “My realm, Pine tree.” He shoved into Dipper and the human's eyes went wide as he released the belt around Bill's neck completely. He screamed as Bill, already slicked up and ready to go, started slamming into him repeatedly and without waiting for him to adjust. “My rules.” Dipper's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clung to Bill's shoulders. Bill let him hold onto him for once, allowed Dipper to touch him as the demon thrust into him without mercy. “You tried, my sweet.” Suddenly Bill was kissing Dipper's shoulder. “And you,” teeth grazed his shoulder and Dipper keened in anticipation, “are not nearly marked up enough,” claws dug into Dipper's sides and he waited, all the while Bill pounded into him, “for someone who wanted a fight.” Fangs sank in, talons dragged down, Bill fucked him, and Dipper screamed. Parts of him went totally numb and he couldn't breathe as the thrusts went from rapid and shallow to short and deep. He could barely hear the sounds leaving his mouth let alone feel the air flooding his lungs. Bill huffed out between moans (oh, the sound of his moans filling Dipper's ears was just so amazing), “You're bolder now than I thought you'd be.” A tongue pressed to the bite on Dipper's shoulder and the noise he made couldn't have been human. “It's gorgeous.”

 

Everything went fuzzy as a mouth covered his and Dipper's everything just . . . malfunctioned. There were certain things he remembered about that moment: a hand in his hair, his hand in Bill's hair, the metallic taste of the demon's tongue sliding between his lips, the way his body just arched into it like . . . he didn't want this. This wasn't what he wanted. It couldn't be.

 

They pulled back as they came, breath mingling as they clung to one another. The soreness didn't catch up with Dipper as quick as the taste of his blood in his mouth. The memory of how it had gotten there sent him into shock, and he stared up at his Master with wide eyes.

 

But he woke up before it fully registered with him that Bill Cipher had kissed him. They'd done a lot of things. Kissing was not among them.

 

As Dipper came awake, lying in his bed in his usual mess and yet miraculously unscathed, his heart was still racing from the encounter. His heart and his mind. Because of all the things he foresaw ruining his plan, this was definitely not one of them. He was not prepared for this.

 

If he'd been in the mindscape long enough to witness the repercussions of the encounter, he would know he wasn't the only one left totally unprepared.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings: smut doesn't happen till close to the end, and the first parts are really rough on feelings. I apologize, this is how the story goes apparently. Bill's behavior is going to make you uncomfortable, guaranteed. Please be warned that he scares the hell out of Dipper in a way that is not okay.
> 
> I did not want you to go in unprepared. Hopefully the ending is enough to make up for it. Hopefully. If a demon were capable of come to Jesus moments. . . .

Dipper took his cues from Bill. When Bill acted like nothing happened, so did he. If anything, they were more argumentative with one another and Dipper could deal with that. He couldn't deal with the fact that Bill had kissed him. Not right now, at least. Maybe not ever.

 

The drawback was that the touches became less frequent. They still engaged in sexual or whatever acts Bill felt like at the time, but Dipper was always left feeling off afterward. Not that he wasn't loving the hell out of what Bill did to him (he still couldn't stand himself sometimes, but his self-loath had dwindled considerably). Something just didn't sit right anymore and that scared him.

 

It didn't, however, scare him as much as Mabel tricking him into a blind date. With who? Pacifica Northwest of all people. She took him to the nicest restaurant in town under the guise of a friendly gathering and just ditched him before he could flail and scream that he was previously engaged. At this point, that would be the only way to get out of the situation: admitting that he wasn't exactly available. Oh God no, he wasn't ready to say he and Bill were a thing. However, Bill was . . . he was a jealous Master.

 

He was soaking in sweat by the time he and Pacifica were at the table with menus in hand, desperately wishing he hadn't left his phone at home so he could text Mabel. She was going to get him killed, he just knew it. The memory of Bill's movements and treatment of him just over the idea of someone coming near him, oh hell no this was bad. He was in so much trouble, and as an added bonus he was probably going to get hard thinking about Bill like that too much. Kill me now, he begged inwardly. Please, just kill me because that would be easier to handle than Bill pissed off.

 

The relief that coursed through him when Pacifica peered over her menu at the top of his head (he was trying to hide, honestly) and uttered, “I hope you're not too invested in this . . . whatever Mabel's doing here. I'm not interested in you.”

 

He practically slumped in his seat from relief, setting the menu down and wiping his brow with his sleeve. “I'm not invested. You're pretty and all but,” he scratched the back of his head, looking for a good way to explain things, “I'm kinda seeing someone, and no one knows about it.” The truth (semi-truth, he and Bill were _not_ a thing) was the better option. Who was Pacifica going to tell, really? Hopefully no one. She didn't know anyone he might even seem interested in let alone that he was visited by a demon regularly.

 

Pacifica quirked an eyebrow. “Not even Mabel?” He shook his head. She let out a surprised puff of air and her eyes went wide looking at the menu. “They must be bad, whoever they are. If you're not telling anyone, that is.” He didn't comment. “Let's just chat like friends and say it was a fun date. Kay?”

 

He nodded gratefully, and they actually wound up having a great time. She managed to withhold any further questions about him and his 'secret relationship' and he got to tell her about what he'd learned thus far. Her interest in ghosts seemed to increase since their younger years, and she enjoyed hearing about what he'd had to eradicate in town. He even told her a little about a particular magical item he was looking for in the woods at the moment, cautiously leaving out the fact that Bill had ordered him not to go without him because the journey was too dangerous. She seemed genuinely interested, and had lots of questions he was actually able to answer. By the end of the night, he felt like a showoff. She didn't seem to mind, though. “That really was fun,” he said.

 

“It was.” She paused, then said, “Tell Mabel I gave you this,” the next thing he knew, she'd pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “so she won't think you scared me off.” Walking away, she added, “Good luck with the girlfriend, or whatever.”

 

When they parted, he rubbed his cheek and a small blush colored his face. Strangely, it wasn't the her kiss but someone else's he was thinking about, and that made him kick the wall beside him before leaving town. Heading back home, Mabel begged him for details and he was able to tell her they had a good time and he'd received a goodnight kiss of sorts. She wouldn't stop talking his ear off about how great he and Pacifica would be for each other, completely oblivious to the fact that he had not said they were together at all. It made Mabel happy, though, so he couldn't fault her too much for it.

 

Entering the mindscape, he felt he'd dodged a bullet until he found himself in the study area and there was no demon to be seen. He stood stock still for a moment, staring straight ahead unblinkingly as he feared stepping any closer. Glancing around for any sign of Bill, a tremor ran up his spine when he saw nothing of the sort. Bullet dodged? Perhaps not.

 

Moving closer to the table, his hands were shaking as he started leafing through his pages and pages of notes. Quietly praying to whoever would listen to him (he didn't want to imagine no one, the thought seemed to hopeless), his whole body was slowly starting to course with anxiety as the demon still had not appeared. Reaching up to touch his neck, he ran a hand over the collar self-consciously. He expected to feel something (leash, hand, tentacle) that indicated Bill's presence, but nothing came. He wanted a warning. He wanted a wall to press his back to, but there wasn't one in sight. He wasn't even sure Bill wasn't present because he was angry at this point. Bill could just be . . . busy. Yeah. Busy.

 

Bill was never fucking busy when Dipper first got here. Dipper was fucked.

 

And he was always watching. Glancing over his shoulder, Dipper saw nothing and quickly returned to trying to focus on his notes. The lines started to blur, though, and he was now shivering profusely. Was it just him, or was it cold in here? He couldn't remember it being this cold.

 

He let out a breath and watched as steam left his mouth and suddenly he knew. At the last minute a thought occurred to him, a question rather: would he really be able to see Bill's eyes glowing if they were black and he was hiding in darkness?

 

Panic shot through him as a disembodied voice whispered into his ear, “Did you enjoy your date?”

 

Dipper's eyes went wide as he felt sick to his stomach and his mouth opened and closed in search of a proper response. There was none. There was nothing he could say right now, and he knew it. “It,” his teeth were almost chattering, “i-it wasn't like that,” he tacked on at last minute, “Master.”

 

No response. That wasn't a good sign. Neither was the continual drop in temperature throughout the mindscape. Any colder and he thought the sweat starting to pour down his body might freeze in its tracks. Dropping the papers, he glanced around for a wall again. Maybe he should hide under the table. Maybe he should run. No, Bill would chase him. There was nowhere he could go, and that . . . that was the worst feeling he'd had all day.

 

Then a hand grasped his upper arm so quickly and firmly he let out a gasp and jumped up, held down and in place only by the palm gripping him. Heat radiated off the body now behind him, but he couldn't look. He just stared straight ahead and hoped, prayed, begged for Bill to listen to him when prompted to speak again. “It sure didn't look that way to me,” the demon hissed.

 

Dipper whimpered, practically feeling his Master's gaze boring into his back. “We,” his breath stuttered and the words chilled in his mouth, “We j-just talked. It was nothi—”

 

“Was it nothing?” A claw, which seemingly came from nowhere, lightly grazed Dipper's cheek on the spot where Pacifica had kissed him. Dipper's resolve began to crumble then. That's where he'd gone wrong. Oh God, no. “Did you like it?” Dipper bit his lip, eyes cast down at the table as his insides twisted and he began calculating just how doomed he was. The hand on his arm started compressing, nails biting through Dipper's skin as the demon hissed again, “Did you _like_ it?”

 

“No Master,” Dipper said swiftly.

 

The hand didn't stop though, grip growing tighter and tighter as Dipper started to feel the crushing strength of the demon. “You seemed to.” Dipper's mouth gaped and he closed his eyes against the pain he was starting to feel. Placing a hand over Bill's and trying to slow the compression, he whimpered and gasped as the demon ignored the way the human's knees buckled and he pulled from the agonizing hold. “Are you lying to me?”

 

“No,” Dipper gasped out, shaking his head as he pried at Bill's hand. His eyes started watering as he amended, “Master, you're—”

 

“I think you are.”

 

“Master please, you're hurting me.” Dipper's bone felt like it was about to crack by the time Bill let go of his arm. His alleviation was short lived, because as soon as he was released he was spun about by the demon. Bill grabbed his forearms with the same powerful grasp and . . . he had never seen Bill that angry nor had he ever wanted to. Hips slamming back into the table and the demon pressed forcefully against him, Dipper closed his eyes against the sight of Bill, black eyes and red aura burning an image into Dipper's mind as tears trickled down his face against his will. “Master—”

 

He cried out and lost all sense of what he was saying as Bill slammed his arms down and pinned them to the wood, pushing Dipper back onto the table and over his research. With his feet no longer on the ground, Dipper lost all control of the situation and his tongue. Bill's sweltering heat suffocated him while the cold air and surface continued biting into his skin. The demon's pelvis pressed roughly against his and the sensation was in no way inviting, not like it usually was. Dipper couldn't think or do or say anything as Bill leaned over him, gaze locking with his as he snarled, “I think you liked her doing that to you.”

 

“M-Master—”

 

Dipper flinched as he was cut off, “I think you've forgotten who owns you.”

 

“N-no! Bill—,” Dipper shook his head frantically, stilling and quieting while looking up with pleading eyes as Bill bared his teeth and a feral growl ripped from his lungs. Dipper shrank in the demon's hold and he wanted to run. He wanted to run and hide and wait until Bill was calm enough to talk to again because he had no idea what to do right now. Dipper cried out and whimpered again as Bill squeezed his forearms just as hard as he'd squeezed his upper arm. 

 

“Do you need a reminder?”

 

He shook his head again, jerking in the demon's hold and trying to get away. He whined as Bill pressed down close, lips and teeth threatening to sink into his neck and shoulder. “Master please,” Dipper pleaded as the demon's breath burned him. “I didn't lik-ke it. I swear. I even told her I was with-th someone. I j-just didn't want to h-hurt M—”

 

The feel of his forearms about to crack from the pressure silenced him as quickly as the words, “I've heard enough.” Suddenly Dipper's hands were pinned above his head by one palm while the other gripped his chin. His forearms screamed in the aftermath of the grip as his wrists endured a similar hold, pulling gasps and whines from Dipper's lips. Claws dug into his tear stained cheeks as Bill snarled, “I should rip her  _apart_ for laying her lips on you—”

 

Dipper wanted to shake his head but couldn't, instead squeaking out, “No, please—!”

 

“But I think I'll remind you who owns you.” Bill thrust against him and usually Dipper loved it, usually he begged for it, but right now as Bill's fangs prepared to mar the flesh on his shoulder Dipper was horrified.

 

This was not going to be pleasurable, this was going to be painful and painful alone. “Bill, stop—!”

 

“ _The title is Master_!” The demon's teeth grazed Dipper's shoulder and the human tensed.

 

Panic ripped through Dipper in the form of him screaming, “Bill Cipher!” at the top of his lungs. There was a shadow of a second where nothing happened and Dipper just knew he was going to die. He knew that was the end for him. But then Bill started slowly pulling back and Dipper could have sobbed when the pressure on his wrists ceased. Drawing his shaking arms to his chest, red hand prints that would later become bruises were visible on his limbs. Dipper remained up on the table, the demon leaning over him but no longer touching him. He was terrified beyond measure, otherwise he would have screamed out the question of whether Bill had thought this was a fucking game. “Please,” Dipper whimpered instead, watching Bill's still very much enraged face through tears, “It really was nothing.”

 

Before he could add anything else, Bill had stormed off and disappeared. Dipper lay on the table, afraid to move. When he finally did, he didn't make it far. His legs were jelly and his arms weren't nearly strong enough to hold him up. He wound up a heap under the table, staring dumbly at the steadily blooming marks on his arms. Tears streamed freely and his insides roiled and twisted. His chest burned and all he wanted to do was run to the demon and apologize.

 

Somehow, he knew that wasn't going to work.

* * *

 

“Bro bro, what's on your mind?”

 

“You look like you been rode hard and put away wet lately.”

 

Dipper looked like he wanted to smirk at that, but didn't. He just stared at his untouched plate of food. Grunkle Stan left the two to go open up shop, and Mabel dared to ask, “Is it you and Pacifica?”

 

Dipper flinched. “We're . . . we're just friends.” She pouted, prepared to ask what had happened before he asked, “How do you . . . nevermind.”

 

Mabel's brow furrowed. “What is it?” Dipper hesitated, like he was afraid someone would hear them. Mabel quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Is it that novel again?”

 

Her brother shifted uncomfortably in his seat, tugging at his sleeves. “Yeah. That . . . thing.”

 

She sighed. “Characters having trouble?”

 

He nodded, and looked more sullen than average. She wanted to just pull the information out of him, demand to know what was bothering him already. But she settled for this. He muttered half to himself and half to her, “Character two doesn't know how to apologize for something they did.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Say sorry. It's simple.”

 

“Character two can't. Character one won't even come near them.” He stabbed at the sausage on his plate and muttered, “Won't speak to them, won't look at them, won't even be in the same room with them for long. Just drops his shit and leaves.”

 

Mabel sucked in a breath through her nose. “What did they do?”

 

He shook his head. “Something stupid.”

 

“How long has it been going on?”

 

He inhaled heavily as he thought about it. “A week?”

 

She clicked her tongue. “Sounds like you need to grovel.” Dipper scoffed and she put some more thought into it. Then she said, “Or do something big to get his attention.”

 

She waited for the suggestion to sink in. He stilled completely before nodding and looking at her. “You're right.” Then he got up and left his food, heading upstairs (probably to collect his journal). “Thanks.”

 

She loved how he didn't correct her when she said he was character two. Now she really just wished he would tell her what was actually going on. A terrible feeling formed in the pit of her stomach and she couldn't shake the notion that something awful had happened or was about to.

* * *

 

Pine tree was doing something stupid and he knew it. Probably going after that item they had been researching before the . . . incident. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about what a fucking idiot the kid was being, going after the item alone.

 

At first, he couldn't be bothered to look and really check. He couldn't even bother to look in on what Dipper was doing of late. Bill spent a great deal of his time fuming over a lot of things, mostly over his current  _problem_ . That's what he was referring to the young man as now: his  _problem_ .

 

He'd been a problem for much longer than the recent arrangement they had. Now the nature of the issue had changed. Bill had thought he would have resolved all of his concerns by pulling the annoying human under his wing and keeping him within reach at all times. He liked having the toy, and what better toy than a dumb human that actually knew more than he should. But things within the demon had changed ever since the demon had kissed him and it infuriated Bill. He'd been content to hide his conflict at first, but then the way he just . . .  _lost_ it over someone else coming close to putting their lips on him just . . . he was in trouble. He was in a lot of trouble. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to feel this. What even was this? This felt a hell of a lot worse than mere obsession or possessiveness. He was possessive of Pine tree. That was natural, as he owned him. Dipper Pines was his and no one else's. This did not feel like mere possessiveness. Pine tree did not feel like a simple object. He was . . . important. Somehow. Bill didn't know how. 

 

Which was why when he heard the human's distress even from the distance he'd placed between them, he went on full alert. Eyes shot wide as he stared into the void of the mindscape, listening out as the cries dwindled to weak sobs. He knew what Pine tree sounded like when he was merely upset. This wasn't just upset. Bill snapped his fingers, feet touching the ground as he pulled his property completely from reality and into his realm courtesy of his owning the human. When he heard the human enter the mindscape, he turned to face him.

 

And everything in his being ceased to function.

 

Dipper was only on his feet for a split second before his knees started to buckle. His hands went to his abdomen, which didn't look any different until Bill saw the blood seeping from a gaping wound in his gut. Bill stopped breathing altogether as he approached the steadily collapsing teen in long strides, all thoughts and reservations about what the human had done flying out the window. Dipper was just losing his balance and tilting when he glimpsed the approaching demon and uttered, “Bill—?” He was cut off when his footing was finally lost and he dropped, only for the demon to catch him. Pine tree let out an agonized cry, and Bill realized as he lifted the human off his feet and into his arms that there was a similar wound, fresh and bleeding, higher up on Dipper's back. The teen's head lolled back, his breathing ragged and tears forming in his eyes as his hat fell to the ground. The human's voice came out as a panicked garble, “M-Master—”

 

“Stop talking,” Bill ordered, miraculously maintaining an air of calm as he shifted their surroundings to the bedroom area. Carrying Pine tree to the bed, he set the wounded human down as carefully as he possibly could before snapping his fingers to remove Dipper's top. The human started shivering, and Bill had to place a hand on one of Dipper's legs to keep him from squirming. “Don't move.”

 

Pine tree whimpered, soft toned and high pitched due to agony. “Master, I'm—”

 

“What did I say about talking?” The more he talked and shifted, the less energy he had and the more he bled. Didn't he understand that? A million thoughts raced through Bill's mind as he settled on his knees on the bed beside Dipper and placed a hand over the wound in the abdomen. The human's breathing was growing shallower. “Stay awake,” he ordered. The human whimpered more, losing his breath easily as Bill focused on speeding up the healing process. The injury was slow to knit back together, the loss of blood sure to affect the human. He felt the pull on his energy reserves as he fought to heal Dipper. These wounds were nothing like the marks he'd left on Pine tree. These could actually kill him, and injuries like that took much longer to heal. Something laced itself through the forefront of his mind and he had a hard time focusing as it grew at an excruciating rate, threatening to paralyze him. Something constricted in his chest when he heard Pine tree stutter out a breath that didn't sound as strong as the others. With one hand still weaving the spell that would save the human, Bill reached out for the other to slide it under Dipper's head. “Pine tree, focus.” The way his pet looked up at him could have easily destroyed his adoration for seeing him afraid. Dipper Pines was scared. He was so scared, Bill wondered for a moment how he wasn't shaking.

 

Then Dipper opened his mouth and blood trickled from it as he coughed. He closed his eyes, muttering an almost unintelligible, “I'm sorry.” The demon watched as the human's eyes started to roll to the back of his head, breath flooding past his bloody lips before he grew heavy.

 

The feeling tightened in Bill's chest before the feeling lacing through his every frantic thought made him grind to a halt. Eyes wide, he ignored the fact that his energy supply would suffer for it and accelerated the healing process. “Pine tree, wake up.” His hand gripped the back of the human's head tight enough that it had to garner a reaction. It didn't. Hand sliding from the back of the human's head to the wound on his back, Bill lifted the human up and worked to heal both wounds at once. He pushed his energy harder, eyes narrowing on Dipper as his voice raised, “Pine tree, that's an order.” Hands clutched at the human, clenching over the still bleeding but now quickly regenerating holes in his body. Bill adjusted his pet, pulling him desperately into his lap and against him as he worked. He watched flesh grow where once it had been torn, but what he really needed to see was the human breathing. He wasn't breathing. Dipper wasn't breathing. “Dipper!” Bill screamed, but got no response. The demon's spell ceased, as he could feel that there was no more damage he could treat. There was nothing else he could fix. There was still blood on his hands, on the human's skin, but there were no gaping wounds or even scars and Dipper should be  _breathing_ . Energy spent, he shifted the still human (too still, he was way too still) more to his chest and squeezed the human's jaw with one hand. “Dipper Pines, you open your mouth and breathe right now!” His other hand reached up to thread his fingers through Dipper's hair again. His reserves were faltering, his chest felt like it was going to explode, and his head was screaming. His gaze fell on the bruises on Dipper's arms, bruises he'd left and had never actually healed. He held the human tighter, a sound of frustration spilling out of his strained lips. Eyes going dark, Bill bared his teeth and snarled, “You are not allowed to leave this world before I  _say so_ !” With that, he sent a jolt of power through the human that would have sent most into cardiac arrest. This time, it forced Pine tree's back to arch and a cry to pour forth from his mouth. Bill's eyes returned to normal as Dipper choked on the air he sucked in, probably tasting the blood he'd coughed up previously. His chest heaved, but he remained unconscious for the time being. “Good boy,” Bill uttered before his eyes fluttered shut and he warred with the panic that had seized control over his mind. “Good boy,” he whispered again. Before his thoughts could form, his lips were brushing the human's cheek, forehead, eyelids, before finally coming to rest on Dipper's lips. The kiss was soft and brief as the human didn't respond. He didn't really want him to. He wanted him to keep breathing, keep living.

 

Pressing his forehead to Dipper's, his arms encircled the human's torso before he started rocking the both of them. Whether he was doing it consciously or not, he didn't care. He had to regain the energy he'd lost, and he couldn't bring himself to leave his pet's side until he was fully restored. His chest, which had lost most of its tenseness when relief had conquered it, clenched slightly when a small voice uttered, “Bill?”

 

“Go to sleep, kid,” he commanded, not bothering to correct him on the second use of his first name. Dipper slid back to unconsciousness with ease and Bill refused to let him go until the demon was ready.

 

Because as soon as he'd recovered from the loss of energy, he was going to find the creatures that gored Dipper Pines. He was going to find them and make them pay. Bill Cipher cared for a select few things in this world. Caring might be too generous a term, really. In the case of his pet though, it appeared to be just the right term.

 

And they had almost taken him from Bill.

 

He was going to make an example out of them.

* * *

 

The first time Dipper woke up, he had no idea where he was for a moment. He barely remembered his stalwart decision to get Bill's attention by finishing what they'd started without him, let alone the attack that had left him at death's door. As soon as his vision stopped blurring and he regained a semblance of a memory of what happened, he stiffened. He immediately regretted it, as his body was sore. Sore, but not in utter agony. He remembered the pain more than he remembered what happened during or after the attack, and that pain was nonexistent now. Glancing about blearily, he knew the bed. He knew he'd been in it before. He passed out as he was recalling the exact time he'd been in it.

 

The second time he woke up, he was a little more aware. He looked around sleepily, still aching from the encounter that had left him disheveled. Hadn't he been severely injured? Then why did he feel so . . . not injured? Where were wounds? And . . . how were his clothes not torn?

 

A hand covered his eyes and he inhaled sharply as the voice ordered, “Go back to sleep.”

 

A combination of ease and anxiety washed over him. “Master—”

 

“You heard me.” He didn't argue. He bit his tongue, relaxing on the bed again as a fear of waking up to find that Bill was avoiding him once more crept in. Despite that fear, he managed to fall back to sleep rather quickly.

 

The third time he woke up, he had been startled awake. He jumped out of his skin as something was slammed down on the nightstand (there was a nightstand?) and his eyes shot open. He gripped the comforter warily, a wave of panic pronouncing his rapidly beating heart as he looked to see Bill standing where the sound had originated.

 

He was covered in blood. He was practically glowing with rage, eyes blackened, and covered . . . in blood.

 

On the nightstand he'd dropped four gigantic horns, still bloodied from the beast he'd ripped them off of. Dipper knew those horns: they were from the monsters that had attacked him. Part of the trip to retrieve the artifact he'd been on the hunt for took him through their territory. They'd been friendly at first. Then they'd smelled Bill on him, and the brief allegiance soured rather quickly.

 

Dipper shrank when he realized Bill was staring at him as he pulled his coat off. Hands still bloody from the punishment he'd eked out on the creatures, the demon reached for Dipper. He flinched as the hand latched onto his shirt (he was still wearing clothing in the mindscape and that scared him even more), pulling him up despite the noise of protest that left him. Dipper closed his eyes against the fury that was his Master. “I'm—”

 

“When I say don't do something,” Bill growled, sending violent shivers through Dipper as his hot breath blew across his face, “are you going to listen next time?” Dipper kept his eyes closed, nodding quickly and without question. “Yes what?”

 

Dipper whined against his closed lips before gasping out, “Yes Master.”

 

“That'll do.” Then he was shoved back on the bed, a tremor running through him as he dared to look back at the demon this time. He was turning away and continuing to clean up the mess on himself, though. He was undoing the cuffs of his shirt and pulling his bow tie lose as he said, “You lost too much blood. Rest.” He wasn't given much choice. His eyes drooped against his will and he was out like a light again.

 

The last time he woke up, he was alone. Sitting up in bed, he felt his head start to ache from the amount of sleep he'd had. He had no idea how long he'd been in the mindscape, and he felt some worry over his family. They would be looking for him most assuredly, because they wouldn't have any clue as to where he was. They wouldn't know he was safe. As safe as he could be in a demon's realm. A demon he needed to speak with.

 

Dipper hesitated to get up at first, glancing about the room and expecting blackened eyes to be staring back at him. He rubbed his arms, glancing down in surprise as he wasn't greeted by the sting of the bruises Bill had left on him the night before he proceeded to shun Dipper. Pulling up his sleeves, he saw that the blue and purple blooms were gone. Much like the wounds in his torso, Dipper thought.

 

He sighed. He knew he needed to talk to Bill. The goal had been to talk to Bill. Now he was here in the mindscape, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach at the thought of confronting the demon. He'd done not one, not two, but three things to anger him. One, the incident with Pacifica. Two, stopping him from dealing out his punishment. Three, directly disobeying him in an effort to impress him or at least call attention to himself. Well, he'd succeeded that last part. Thinking back on the way Bill had made him feel guilty about disobeying though, and he felt even more ill.

 

Sliding off the bed, he stood up slowly as he wandered through the room to the doorway. He was surprised the room had stayed settled into one shape, that the mindscape hadn't started to warp around him as he searched for Bill. That's what had been happening recently at least. He'd go in search of the demon and always wound up back at the study area. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Bill didn't want him around anymore.

 

He knew that was wrong for two reasons. First of all, he still had his collar on. He was in the clothes he'd been attacked in, but he could reach up and touch the golden collar all the same. Second of all, when Bill had berated him earlier he had spoken like he didn't intend to let Dipper go no matter how much he'd angered the demon. Dipper sighed. His gut was starting to clench more as he wandered throughout the gray scale realm.

 

He found himself in a living room area with blue flames burning in a fireplace. The color drew him closer, but he didn't see Bill anywhere. Stepping lightly and timidly, he was starting to take in the almost elegant space when the demon's voice came from an armchair by the fireplace, “I told you to rest.”

 

Dipper jumped, knees buckling under him for a moment. Was Bill really going to get upset at him for that? Biting his lip, he steeled his resolve and tried to quell the parts of him that started to shake. He was resolute to make things right with the demon, but he was also scared of him. Given what had happened last time they'd confronted one another, he should be. The Dipper from a few years ago would tell him he should be scared all the time, he should be running, fighting. Instead, he was here. He was trying to apologize to Bill Cipher.

 

His Master.

 

Dipper spoke up timidly, afraid to step further into the room, “I . . . wanted to talk to you.” Bill didn't respond and Dipper gulped. He wasn't being ushered out, so  _maybe_ that was good. Running his hands over his arms fearing the chill that sometimes fell upon the mindscape at Bill's behest, he offered up, “I wanted to . . . apologize.”

 

“For _what_ exactly?” Dipper flinched and automatically looked to the ground, expecting some form of retaliation. The demon remained out of sight, however. “You already apologized. I don't want to hear it again.”

 

Dipper shifted his weight, wanting to believe that everything was alright. It wasn't, though. He just knew. Bill just didn't want to face him right now, but all Dipper wanted was to be close to him again.

 

That thought froze him. Why was he so determined to resolve this? He should rejoice over the idea that maybe he could get out of this deal. His life could be semi-normal again. Why did he . . . he stopped. He wasn't going to question it. He was just going to do what he had to to fix it. Still, he hesitated to really argue with Bill. Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, “Did . . . did you heal me?”

 

His Master huffed, making Dipper flinch again. “No. You're here, perfectly healthy and sans any blemishes, because you magically developed regenerative powers and broke in.”

 

He should have expected the sarcasm. Instead of unnerving him further, it made him bristle. “If you're so done with me, why bother?”

 

“Who said I was done with you?”

 

“You seem to be.”

 

“I'm done talking to you right now.”

 

“Well I'm not done talking to you.”

 

“What do you want, kid?”

 

“For you to tell me what you want.”

 

“Right now I want you to go the fuck to sleep and finish healing.”

 

“I'm fine!” Bill didn't respond immediately and sarcastically to that. After pausing in anticipation for the demon to come back at him, he asked (no, begged), “Just tell me what to do.”

 

There was a moment where nothing happened. He didn't think Bill would answer, and was on the verge of asking if he could be returned home since the demon didn't want to talk about this. Then there was a snap that made Dipper jump. He looked up to see the chair spinning, legs screeching against the floorboards as Bill commanded the armchair to move so that he was facing Dipper. Dipper felt himself shrink further while in the demon's sights. His eyes weren't black, but they didn't need to be. That stare was enough to tear his nerves up.

 

Bill leaned on his palm, watching the human in such a predatory way that Dipper felt the familiar tug in his abdomen. He squelched it, afraid Bill would see it as . . . he didn't know, weakness? And turn away. The longer the demon stared at him with that facial expression, the more he felt like he was going to regret asking. But he needed to do this. He wanted to do this.

 

So when his Master demanded, “Come closer,” he shoved the remainder of his self-consciousness and self-loath aside and obeyed. He stopped about two feet from the chair, skin tingling as he drew nearer. He held his breath, waiting for more orders. “You still need to be punished.” Dipper swallowed hard. There was a time he would have been spitting curses and struggling. He remembered that time well. Now, however, he just wanted to get back to the point where they  _could_ bicker like that again. “Are you ready?”

 

Dipper swallowed again before nodding. “Yes Master.”

 

Bill didn't move from his position. All that moved were his eyes, which looked Dipper up and down. The look, however, was unreadable. Then Bill ordered, “Strip.” Dipper's back straightened. He wanted to question the order, wanted to ask why he couldn't just snap and make the clothes disappear. He got the feeling that was the point. Bill knew he knew the demon had that ability, and was making him do this to show that Dipper chose this path. Or to embarrass him. Either sounded plausible. Face flushing, he started by sliding his flannel off his arms. Then he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing both in a heap to the side. He kicked off his socks and shoes, scooting them to the shirt pile and pulling in a deep breath. He should not feel this nervous about undressing before the demon. They'd been anything but shy about his body in the past. Still, the act of undressing felt . . . he couldn't describe it. Unzipping his pants, he felt his shoulders and chest start to heat up as he hooked both his underwear and jeans with his thumbs and quickly shucked them off. Once everything was piled off to the side and all he had left was the collar, he fought the urge to fold his arms over himself. The demon murmured, “You really aren't much for show, are you?”

 

It took Dipper a moment for him to understand the question. Before he could bite his lip, he quipped, “You're surprised?”

 

The demon didn't respond. Instead, he pointed to the floor and commanded, “Kneel.” Suddenly Dipper wanted to buck the demon's demands, but he set his jaw and stopped himself. Slowly going to his knees, he settled down with his palms flat on the ground. A sickness hit him in the stomach and he forced his eyes closed to try not to think about the position he was in. “Lower.” The word sent a chill over him, and he resisted the urge to groan. His elbows buckled as he tried to obey, but he apparently wasn't quick enough. The armchair creaked, and before he could open his eyes to see what was happening Bill's foot was on his back and pressing down. Dipper grunted and bowed lower, the demon's heel digging into his skin as his body bent in submission. Forehead just centimeters shy of the ground, he recalled vividly the first time Bill had bent him over almost like this. He'd had a collar in his mouth at the time. It was much easier wearing it than grinding his teeth on it. He realized this with a shiver of excitement as Bill declared, “That's better.” The foot didn't move, and Dipper was starting to like the pressure oddly enough. This he could handle. He could handle Bill like this. He couldn't handle Bill in a jealous rage. “Do you know what I'm punishing you for?”

 

Which crime was Bill most sore about? He thought he knew, but he went with, “Yes Master.”

 

“And are you going to let it happen again?” The scolding tone sent chills over the human.

 

“No Master.”

 

“That's what I like to hear.” Dipper felt light at the pitch of Bill's voice, which was less sinister than before. The foot left his back and Dipper gasped. Hearing Bill sit down, he didn't look up until the demon ordered, “Now please me.”

 

Dipper's brow furrowed as he looked up. His Master was settling back down in the armchair, watching him intently. “Wh-what?” Dipper stammered.

 

“Please me. On your knees.” A wave of panic washed over him, as he had no idea what to do. “And be more creative with this one.”

 

Dipper was internally screaming at this point. He had never done this before. Bill had never told him to do this. Bill usually made it very clear what he wanted and took it when he wanted it. Dipper had only been allowed to improvise on one occasion and . . . he tried to remember the power he'd felt then. Maybe that would help him now.

 

Crawling forward, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about what he was going to do. He tried not to think at all. He just went with things. His only concern was getting back in Bill's good graces and this was the least violent way he could have done it. He was going to try his damndest, and his damndest was apparently to revere Bill.

 

Taking a deep breath, he started by kissing Bill's foot. Tentatively running his hands up the demon's calves, he trailed his mouth up Bill's right leg. Lips grazed the clothed leg, gently pressing kisses through the fabric. His hand followed the same path his mouth was taking on the other leg, Dipper's face heating up as he pressed a kiss to the demon's knee. He expected some noise or reaction from the demon, but when he got none he pressed on. He shivered, fearing that he wasn't doing enough. Running his hand and lips slowly, teasingly up and over Bill's thighs, Dipper found himself between the demon's legs and kissing the bulge that had formed in his Master's trousers. It was when he did that he heard the demon take in a long, drawn out breath. Hands on Bill's hips, Dipper swallowed the last of his reservations and nuzzled the growing bulge, pressing his mouth against the clothed cock and letting his breath penetrate the fabric that separated him from it. Exhilaration flooded him when he was rewarded with the sound of Bill's breath hitching. The demon quickly covered up the noise and shifted in his seat, but Dipper had heard it. That alone spoke volumes. Fingers trailed over Bill's pelvis to his zipper, Dipper pulling his mouth away to unbuckle the belt and unbutton the trousers. Pulling the zip, he risked a glance up at the demon as he freed Bill's member. He shuddered at the now very heated stare the demon was trying not to give him, which was half illuminated by the blue light of the fire and half covered in darkness. Bill looked like he wanted to maintain his cool, but that wasn't clearly working for him. Whatever Dipper had done, he'd apparently done it well.

 

He continued watching his Master as he licked up the demon's shaft, watching the demon's chest rise and fall. He drew the head in past his lips and placed one hand at the base of Bill's cock while the other rested on his pelvis. Moving slowly at first, tongue circling the head and applying pressure in all the right spots, he closed his eyes and moaned at the sound of the demon's breaths quickening. Wanting to hear more, he started moving faster, breathing in deep through his nose before swallowing down the demon's length. Having his hand at the base and massaging served as a stopping point, keeping him from choking on the member. His head started bobbing and his tongue worked, and the noises he pulled from Bill made him shudder and moan again. He picked up pace, then slowed for breath as well as to pay attention to the more sensitive areas. The distinct sound of claws biting into the furniture reached Dipper's ears before a hand grasped him by the hair and Bill started thrusting into his mouth. Dipper's breath hitched, his eyes watered, and before he knew what he was doing he was moaning around the cock and enjoying every minute of his face getting fucked by the demon. He was being used by his Master, and somehow that didn't register as a bad thing but as a very, very good thing.

 

Then Bill yanked his head up and Dipper's eyes shot wide as he was being pulled up off his knees. Bill released him once he'd taken the cue to get on his feet. When the demon grabbed his hips and made him turn around, the human cringed at the sight of a knife flashing in one of Bill's hands. Bill parted Dipper's legs with his feet as he guided him down onto his lap. “Master—?” Dipper started, but was cut off by Bill's sharp penetration of his entrance. Dipper's mouth fell open as the pain of being filled for the first time in a week (or two) shot up his torso. The stretch pulled labored breaths and agonized cries from him and his eyes started watering again. He shuddered around Bill, reaching back to grip the arms of the chair. He sputtered out a combined gasp and whine, body straining as he leaned forward in an attempt to pull somewhat off of Bill's shaft in hopes that that would make it less painful. If anything it made it worse. One of Bill's arms circled his waist to settle him back into place, the demon gently shushing him as a sharp tip (the blade) ran across the backs of his shoulders.

 

Dipper was grateful the demon made no attempts to move inside of him as of yet. When he felt Bill's breath against his back, he shuddered again but not from discomfort this time. “Good boy.” Dipper almost crumbled hearing those words on the demon's lips again. “There's one final piece to this punishment.” The knife dodged over Dipper's back again and a whine escaped his lips once more. “Think of it less as me punishing you and more as . . . insurance.”

 

“Insurance?” For what?

 

“I'm this close to violating our deal just so the whole world, your family included, knows not to lay one goddamn finger on you ever again.” Dipper shrank at the ferocity of the statement, shutting his mouth and holding his breath to keep from groaning at the thought. God, he didn't realize he'd missed this so much. He'd had no idea he would ever come to adore the way Bill owned him. “But no. I'll settle for marking you up instead.” The knife's point pressed into the skin of his back and he bit his lip, gripping the chair harder. “This one you'll have a harder time hiding, my sweet.” Dipper let out a moan over the name combined with a whine and a gasp at the first cut. Bill's movements were swift but deep, Dipper arching his back away from the blade at first. A thrust of Bill's hips stilled Dipper's bid to pull away. Dipper's eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply. “Keep still, and don't pull away. It'll be over sooner that way.” Dipper's chest heaved as Bill dug the knife into his skin again. Without the stimulation he'd endured the first time Bill had marked him, he had very little distraction from the agony. He shuddered and whined with each mark, hanging his head and grasping hard at the arms of the chair. The marks Bill left behind burned, as did the stretch from having the demon inside of him without actually moving. He tried focusing on other things while Bill carved, like the demon's heat or the light of the fire. He was taking in the texture of the demon's clothing against his skin when tears started spilling down his cheeks. Bill was moving across the top of his back, and the carving over his spine was excruciating. He wanted to say the demon's name, beg him to stop or at least take a break, but he clamped his mouth shut and let the demon do what he needed to. He didn't want to anger him, not after everything he'd done to make this work.

 

He sighed in relief when Bill finished carving across the back of his shoulders, thinking they were done. Then he started another row beneath the bleeding and torn flesh, and Dipper miraculously bit back a sob. Tears still rolled freely, but he held onto the chair and bit his lip still his nails threatened to bend backwards and he tasted blood. He let out a cry, and couldn't tell if it was a grateful or pitiful one, when Bill's hips started to move gently. The distraction that provided was enough to make Dipper close his eyes and let the demon go, breath hitching as he fought to keep as still as possible even as the demon was thrusting up into him. A low hum escaped Bill's throat as the knife neared his spine once again and Dipper unwittingly clenched around him. The demon practically purred at the sensation. Bill finished a second row of marks (he was writing, he had to be) and ran his tongue over the ones he had already left. The hot muscle against the already burning wounds combined with the small, slow thrusts into him caused Dipper to let out a broken keen. Then, much to his horror, Bill started carving a third row into his skin and he was struck with the fear that the demon intended to mark up his entire body. “Master?”

 

“Yes, pet?” Dipper clamped his mouth shut again, then shook his head. The blade stopped, then dug in harder than it had before making Dipper gasp and whine. “Did you have a question, Pine tree?”

 

He'd better answer. Squeezing his eyes shut, he asked, “How much longer on the—?”

 

“Done.” Dipper slumped forward, hands stiff and hurting from holding the arms so tight. His back burned and at the moment he would have died to feel the cold air Bill sometimes flooded the mindscape with. The knife clattered to the floor and Bill's hands slid up Dipper's waist, leaving tiny scratches in their wake as he caressed the human's body. His tongue slid over the marks and the demon's mouth was just too hot on them. Dipper whimpered, gasping as the thrusts grew harder and more erratic. He wanted more of that, he wanted more of Bill touching him and moving in him. He just didn't want the tongue on his new wounds. When Bill's mouth left his skin, he started thrusting harder. Dipper bucked forward as the demon whispered, “Who owns you?”

 

Dipper replied without hesitation, “You, Master Cipher.”

 

“And is anyone else allowed to touch you?”

 

He shook his head, then said, “Not without your permission, Master.”

 

“Let's amend that.” Bill's hands grasped his hips and slammed against the bundle of nerves, causing Dipper to straighten up and scream. “Is anyone else allowed to touch you _like this_?”

 

He sputtered for a moment, words failing him, “No Master.”

 

“Good boy.” Dipper melted at the praise, coming undone as the demon thrust up into him. He gathered himself together enough to move in time with Bill's rhythm, vocalizing more and more as Bill picked up the pace. He'd missed this. Oh God, he'd missed this so much he could hardly stand himself.

 

He honestly didn't mean to cry out as loudly as he did when Bill's tongue found its way to his wounds again. He also didn't mean for the words, “Bill Cipher,” to be a part of that cry. When Bill stopped moving, all of the good he'd started to feel became overshadowed with fear and shame. He cursed himself inwardly for opening his fucking mouth, the words, “No, I'm sorry. I—,” flooding his lips only to be interrupted by his Master shushing him.

 

“Tell me what's wrong,” he ordered. Dipper started shaking his head. He'd messed up. He'd messed up again. “Pine tree,” his voice was more stern, “speak.”

 

Dipper gasped, unable to formulate the sentence he needed to. It was when Bill pulled out of him (he let out a whimper over the absence) and started shifting him around to face him that he jammed his eyes shut and the guilt won him over. “I shouldn't have—”

 

“That rule is in place for a reason. Now what's wrong?” Dipper cringed so obviously when Bill's fingers brushed the still bleeding cuts on his back that he wasn't surprised when the demon asked, “They're too deep?”

 

Dipper couldn't stand how shitty he felt. With a heavy sigh and a hard inhale, he nodded and whispered, “It hurts too much.” Then he clarified, “When you touch them.”

 

Bill's tongue clicked as he reached down to adjust himself. Prompting Dipper to put his back to him once again, Dipper's head hung low. There was a cooling sensation just over his the affected area, and he sighed at the relief. He started to miss the feel of the demon inside him, flushing all over again at his neediness. Trying not to tear up over his continued streak of messing things up, he was taken aback when Bill asked, “Why didn't you say my name?”

 

“What?”

 

“If it was hurting so much while cutting, why didn't you say my name?”

 

Dipper's brow furrowed, unable to look at the demon. “I thought you . . . you got mad last time.” He'd stormed off and hadn't spoken to Dipper for a week. The human couldn't help but slouch and moan at the cool hands against his inflamed cuts. “I didn't want to—”

 

“Last time,” Bill cut him off, “I was on the verge of ripping you apart. You did the right thing in stopping me.” Was that . . . sadness? In Bill's voice? “You're mine. I'm supposed to take care of you, too.”

 

That struck Dipper as an odd thing for the demon to say. He let out an exasperated huff in his bemusement before uttering, “The terms were that you own me. That you do whatever you want with me.”

 

“Wrong,” Bill declared with a light tap at the back of Dipper's head. Dipper snorted. That was more like the demon he knew. “The terms are you're mine, and I take care of what's mine. Mostly.”

 

Dipper didn't know what to make of the declaration. He did know that his back felt a heck of a lot better by the time the demon was done. Leaning back into Bill's touch, he sighed when it didn't hurt to have the demon's hand on him again. “Thank you Master.”

 

Bill pressured him into turning to face him again, running a hand through Dipper's hair as the human settled back down on his lap. The demon buried his face against Dipper's neck, lips dragging over the soft skin and collar. “Do you want to continue?”

 

Dipper smiled in spite of himself. “If you want to, Master.”

 

He gasped at the way Bill gripped his hips, placing his hands on the back of the armchair as the demon crushed him against his chest. “I do,” he growled huskily as he teased the skin of Dipper's shoulder with his fangs. Dipper didn't flinch. If anything, he welcomed the feeling. He felt alright again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Several days passed since his odd disappearance and his world was even more upside down than it was before when he and Bill weren't speaking.

 

He had woken up lying in bed next to Bill, who watched him with luminescent eyes. His body had healed and he was starting to feel dizzy. From what, he wasn't sure. That is, until he was sent back to reality. Sent was not the right word, he thought. He wasn't sent so much as thrown haphazardly to the normal world. Upon arrival, he passed out on a hard surface that was most likely the packed dirt at the back of the Mystery Shack. He couldn't be too sure. All he knew was that when he woke up, he was in a hospital bed and Mabel was hovering over him.

 

Blinking several times, he groaned signaling he was awake. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled into a tight embrace and his twin was screaming incoherently into his shoulder. Throat dry, he asked wearily, “M-Mabel, what—?”

 

“You were gone for _days_!” she emphasized, voice muffled by his shoulder. It took him a moment to process her statement, and when it fully hit him he felt sick to his stomach. Oh no, had he really? What must she be thinking? What about Grunkle Stan? Where was he? Bill had just . . . Dipper almost pulled away to check his back but refrained at last minute. As she squeezed tighter, he noticed he wasn't in any pain. The only sting on his body was the bite of the needle in his hand pumping fluids into him. Pulling back, Mabel took him by surprise when she asked him, “You made a deal didn't you?”

 

Dipper's eyes widened. “D-deal?”

 

“You've made a deal,” she reiterated, voice intense and eyes locked on his face as if searching for answers there. “Please tell me it was Satan.”

 

He blinked again and shook his head. “Mabel, what—?”

 

“Please tell me you made a deal with Satan and not who I think it is.” She reached up to place her hands on her cheeks as his own turned red. “I already know the answer, but please please, lie to me. I can at least pretend I can get you out of a deal with the devil, but I have no idea how to get you away from—”

 

His heart pounding, he cut her off as he stammered out, “How do you know the answer?” He thought he'd been careful. Had Bill told her? Why would he do that? How had she found out? Unless . . . .

 

His suspicions were confirmed when she asked, “You haven't seen what's written on your back have you?”

 

Dipper's eyes shot wide as he pushed back the blankets on the bed. Yanking the needle from his hand, he hissed at the pain and ignored her telling him to lie back down and rest. Pushing her away, he stumbled slightly as a wave of nausea hit him. He staggered over to the bathroom, turning his back to the mirror and yanking the hospital gown this way and that to get a better look. When he saw what Bill had etched onto his back, he had the pleasure of watching horror dawn on his face.

 

'Property of Master Cipher' in big, obnoxious, poorly written letters scarred his back.

 

Oh dear God, he all but collapsed against his sister. She cried his name before he uttered fearfully, “Did Grunkle Stan see?”

 

“No, he's at the store. Dipper—”

 

“Does anyone else know?”

 

She started leading him back to the bed, getting ready to call a nurse as she answered, “No one important. Just a nurse commented on it and—”

 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” he muttered as she dropped him on the bed and he flopped back down. His stomach was turning. “Oh God, I'm gonna be sick—”

 

“Dipper, are you gonna tell me what this is all about?” Concern took hold of his twin, and all he could do was stare back at her with a face so red it looked like a tomato. How did he even begin to explain the arrangement between him and Bill? “It's Bill you've been having these relationship problems with isn't it?” Dipper bit his lip hard as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed, looking away from his sister. He was shaking. Oh Jesus, he hadn't prepared for her finding out. He should have. It was just his luck. He knew it would happen eventually. He jumped and shut his eyes as she shrieked, “Are you dating the triangle, Dipper Pines?!”

 

“No!” he shouted back. Then amended a little quieter, “Not quite.”

 

She was glaring at him now. He could feel it in the way she took in a deep breath and huffed out, “I'm going to ignore this fascinating discovery until you're released. Then I'm going to punch you for being a goddamn idiot.”

 

When he was released the next day, however, he wasn't greeted with a punch but an apologetic hug. That night he hadn't slept at all out of fear. Would she tell Stan? Just how hard was the punch going to be? Then she hugged him and he was so taken aback that he whispered, “I'm . . . forgiven already?”

 

She shushed him and whispered in his ear, “You didn't tell me the triangle was hot. I'm sorry. I understand.”

 

So Bill had spoken to her the night before. Dipper . . . didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't know how to feel about a lot of things anymore. “What . . . did he say?”

 

She gave the brief synopsis, “He said you were his and I said don't hurt him. He said too late and I punched him instead.”

 

Dipper pulled back and narrowed his eyes on his sister. “He let you punch him?”

 

She held her hands up as she shrugged. “He said it was funny. He also said you liked it.”

 

That was about when Dipper stopped speaking to her on the matter. That was about when he started having doubts again. Things resumed between him and Bill, but they were most definitely not the same. There was something off in the physical contact between the two. Some nights they didn't touch at all and when they did touch, it wasn't nearly as rough or demanding as before. They spoke more of what they were looking at together than ever before. He should be ecstatic over the attention, over the fact that they were no longer at odds with one another. He should be happy Mabel was actually understanding of what was going on between him and the demon. Understanding wasn't the word, he thought. It didn't fit well enough. Perhaps over encouraging sounded better. Either way, he had gleaned from what she'd spoken about (all while he was trying to ignore her knowledge of the situation) that she didn't know the extent of Bill's ownership of him. She seemed to only know that they were in cahoots over something and that Bill saw him as a pet. The nature of what entailed being Bill's pet didn't seem to hit her quite so quickly. He didn't know how that was possible. She'd seen the writing on his back herself.

 

Ultimately, he was left feeling unsettled by the change in Bill. It wasn't like he wasn't speaking to him anymore, but something was different enough that it seemed almost tangible to Dipper. He couldn't yet put his finger on it, but it was becoming more and more obvious to him.

 

If at all possible, he felt more confused than when he'd started off in a semi-relationship with the demon.

* * *

 

“So you've been seeing my brother every night for I don't know how long, and all you've given him is copious amounts of knowledge?” Well he'd given Dipper Pines _much_ more than knowledge, but he wasn't about to tell Shooting star that. “What did he promise you again exactly?”

 

They had already established that Bill simply 'owned' Pine tree in some way, but they had not discussed the details. It was technically part of the deal with Pine tree that she not know, so Bill was stuck skirting the edges of the topic. “You could call us master and apprentice, if that fits.”

 

She blinked a few times, squinted, then turned away. “I knew he wasn't just getting smarter on his own.”

 

He grinned at how well she'd taken the explanation. To be fair, given the glint in her eyes she may simply be ignoring the obvious for her own sanity. She saw the demon and her brother as being in a relationship, but he could understand that she might not want to think of the nature of said relationship based on the information she currently had. Answering her response, he elected to further distract her with, “He is getting smarter, isn't he?” Pine tree was still dumb enough to do infernally stupid things, but not as dumb as when they'd started out.

 

Mabel straightened up in the cushy chair she'd conjured in her dreamscape, fingers lacing together as she observed, “You sound proud.”

 

He snorted. “I admire what I create.” Everything he tended to make usually turned out splendidly, and he was certainly more attached to this particular subject than he ever intended. “For someone who used to get in my way, he's certainly become useful.” Useful was a good way to describe him.

 

“For someone you complained about watching continuously, you sure have made it easier to keep an eye on him.”

 

He complained? To her? When? “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“You realize Dipper came to me asking for advice on you a couple of times, right? He thought he was being slick, but let's face it. Dipper isn't slick.”

 

Bill could contest that, but honestly he wasn't going there with her. “And what did you advise, exactly?” He already knew at least one case, but he still had to ask.

 

“Why don't you tell me what happened to him that kept him away for so long first?”

 

His expression must have changed drastically because she was visibly taken aback by the shift. He could have said a lot of things on the subject. Dipper had gotten hurt. Dipper had been a dumbass. Dipper had almost died in his arms and he was . . . was he angrier over the fact the Dipper had almost been ripped from this world, from him? Or was he angrier over the fact that it bothered him so much? All he could tell Shooting star was, “I have a problem.”

 

She straightened up out of her slumped position and, without missing a beat, stuck her tongue out at him. “There's something I never thought I'd hear from you.”

 

At least she acknowledged how big a deal it was for him to admit he had a problem. That problem was that he was now much more concerned over the well being of his pet than he had ever thought he would be.

* * *

 

He finally figured out what was bothering him and it felt like a deadweight on his very being. Bill hadn't really shown an interest in him since the punishment. Physically, at least. He continued speaking to and discussing theories with Dipper, but he no longer forced Dipper to undress and he no longer pushed him for anything sexual. Dipper would have thought he would be glad of the lack of semi-forced contact, but he actually . . . he missed it. It had become a huge part of their arrangement and he'd grown accustomed to it. To suddenly not have it, especially after a significant amount of time had passed when he hadn't seen Bill at all, made one hell of an impression.

 

It left him feeling . . . unneeded.

 

This hit him hard one day and he wound up face planting on the table with his forehead sticking to his growing stack of notes. Sighing into the paper, he told himself that if Bill weren't interested in him anymore he wouldn't still be wearing the collar. He wouldn't even be here. Bill wouldn't even . . . he just didn't know what to think. He didn't even know why he continued to be concerned over the matter. They had settled things. They had overcome their previous issues and they were back to business, business Dipper deemed much more important than whatever Bill wanted to do with him that night.

 

Then why did it feel so wrong?

 

His chest ached and he couldn't stand the sickening thoughts that plagued him. He didn't want to contemplate the real reason why this could be bothering him, couldn't fathom contemplating it. He just . . . he wanted . . . he didn't know. He wanted one last shred of dignity to call his own, really. Bill had already taken complete advantage of his every thought and whim, and now that he was scarred and so utterly beholden to the demon they weren't even . . . .

 

He was growling at himself now. Growling at himself with eyes watering. He hated this frustration, because there was literally no one he could share it with. The person he probably should share it with would more than likely laugh at him. In fact, it was almost guaranteed Dipper would be laughed at.

 

So when Bill appeared in a cross legged position above the table and stated, “You look exhausted,” Dipper didn't really give him a completely honest reply.

 

“I am a little.”

 

“Something bugging you?”

 

Why did he have to sound like such a know it all? Sure, he knew it all, but did he really have to act like it? Now? “No.”

 

There was a long pause and Dipper could see the demon hovering over the table out of the corner of his eye. Bill clicked his tongue and Dipper sat up slightly, eyes still cast down. “You're not being truthful Pine tree,” Bill determined.

 

Dipper shook his head. “It's nothing.”

 

“Nothing isn't a viable answer.”

 

Actually, it was. Or it would be if it actually were nothing. “Let's just get to work, okay?”

 

Dipper sat up and started leafing through the books and notes when Bill's hand dropped onto what he was holding and stopped the motion. Dipper looked up, startled by the sudden movement and even more startled by the intensity with which Bill was staring. “No,” Bill declared. The look the demon was giving him wasn't unfamiliar, but it had been a while since he'd seen it. He'd forgotten what it could do to him and his cheeks colored from the embarrassment over how easily affected he was. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

 

An involuntary shudder traveled up Dipper's spine before he placed his head in both hands to avoid looking at Bill. “I don't want to.”

 

“I don't care. Tell me.”

 

“It's stupid.”

 

“If it were so stupid, it wouldn't be bothering you. Now fess up.”

 

Dipper took one moment to glare at the demon through his fingers. Then he sank to the table again and faced away so he wouldn't see the laughter threatening to disrupt Bill's current determined expression. “I feel like . . . you've lost interest in this.”

 

There was a brief pause. Then Bill asked, “Have I now?” It wasn't malicious, nor was it mirthful. In fact, Dipper couldn't read it at all.

 

“Look, I just feel that way, okay? I told you it was—”

 

“Sit up.” Dipper hesitated, then complied. Placing his forearms on the table and leaning on them, he didn't dare look up at Bill's face. He was glad when the demon didn't ask him to. “Look around.” He did so. Slowly. He held his hands up for a moment as if to ask what it was he was supposed to be looking for just as Bill asked, “Do you see any other meatsacks here?” Dipper sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “The only way I could have lost interest would be if something more interesting came along. As you can see, you're completely alone,” he could hear the leer Bill was giving him, “with me.”

 

That should have reassured him. That should have made him feel so much better, but his heart sank again at a thought that decided to take a field trip out of his mouth just as in conjured in his mind. “You could just be tolerating me.”

 

“Pine tree, do you think I've tolerated anything in my entire existence?” How the hell should Dipper know? He didn't know every goddamn thing about Bill Cipher now, did he? “Where is this coming—?”

 

“I know it's stupid, okay!” Dipper retorted in frustration. He dropped his head in his hands again. When silence persisted, he said, “Things are different, and I don't know why.” Still nothing. He kept his head in his hands, afraid to look up at the demon. “I don't know what I did wrong this time—”

 

“You haven't done anything wrong.”

 

“Then why does it feel like I did?”

 

More silence. Just dead, fucking silence. He was on the verge of crumbling into a pool of despair under the weight of the silence. Then Bill's voice shattered it with a firm, “Stand up.” The flatness of his tone made him shrink slightly, but he placed his hands back on the table and pushed his chair back. Putting a considerable amount of space between the tale and himself, he forced himself upright. Eyes still down, he looked at his clothes and his first thought was to remove the flannel shirt currently adorning him. That would make sense. He was in Bill's realm after all. Certain rules still applied, right? But as soon as his hands twitched and started moving toward the buttons, Bill muttered, “I didn't order you to do anything else.” Dipper's spine went rigid and his limbs locked into place. Face now redder than ever, he hated that this meant so much to him. He hated that he wanted the orders, the possession, the touch. He almost wanted to yell at the demon for doing this to him. At the same time, he wanted to beg him not to stop. He didn't understand his own head anymore. He tensed as Bill slid into the space between Dipper and the table, putting him a mere hairsbreadth apart from the demon. His master. He closed his eyes at the thought, feeling sick with himself. He felt so . . . ridiculous. And low. He felt even worse as Bill placed his index finger on the bottom of Dipper's chin to tilt his head up. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Dipper felt even smaller. He couldn't tell what was going on in Bill's head. He couldn't read his face at all.

 

Then his master tilted his head down, lips capturing his and sending electricity coursing through Dipper. The human inhaled sharply through his nose as the demon tested their connection, starting gentle and slow before pressing more into Dipper. Dipper was receptive. Startled, but receptive. When the shock started to wither, his chest tightened and burst with realization. Eyes wide, he stared at the demon before they fluttered shut and he kissed back harder. Hands moving up, he didn't touch his master at first. He wanted to, but he didn't. Then Bill paused in his onslaught long enough to reach up and pull Dipper's hands to his chest. Dipper's hands slid over the demon's clothed chest, eyes darting to the other's nervously as their noses touched. Bill's hands rested on his upper arms, and Dipper actually heard him gulp.

 

For only a second time out of all their exchanges, Dipper actually felt like he had some power. He didn't know where the thought had come from, that he actually had the upper hand on Bill for once, but he wasn't as drunk on the thought as he had been the one moment previous. A thought struck him and he couldn't let it go. He asked, “M-Master?”

 

“Yes?” Bill responded quietly.

 

“Can . . . can you show me again?”

 

Foreheads touched and Bill asked, “Show you what exactly?”

 

Dipper felt nervousness creep up and try to strangle him. Then he answered, “H-how you want me.”

 

A familiar grin from the demon popped into his peripherals before Dipper was being crushed against Bill, lips seizing his so much rougher than before. Dipper saw stars, drowning in the touch he'd craved for . . . he didn't want to think about how long. One moment he was standing and the next, Bill had him by the waist and was picking him up. Spun about and dropped onto the table, swift hands spread his knees apart and pulled him so his groin was flush against the demon's. Dipper yelped at the sudden contact before the noise was swallowed by Bill's mouth on his once more, the human reaching up and tugging at the other's clothes. He hesitated, then was encouraged by Bill's lack of denial. In fact, Dipper reaching for the bow tie and buttons of the shirt made the demon grasp the young man's shirt collar only to tear the shirt open. Buttons popped as the demon exposed Dipper, his pet, without even taking his lips off the other. Shirt shoved and pulled off, Dipper pulled his arms free before resuming the removal of his master's clothes. Hands flitted down Dipper's back and he was reminded briefly of the marks Bill had left claiming him. Fingers fumbled on buttons, the demon actually chuckling against his lips as he reached down to help Dipper in his failed attempts to undress the other. Then Bill pulled back and something slimy wrapped around Dipper's wrists before pinning them to the table. The human didn't look at the tentacles that had stolen his hands so thoroughly, eyes hooded and focused on the other. Bill grinned at him as he undressed slowly, teasing the other by taking his time.

 

When he finally pulled the last of his layers (too many layers) from his torso, he slid his hands up Dipper's thighs and hooked his fingers in the other's bottoms. Dipper raised his hips just enough for Bill to pull the pants free, gasping as the brush of fabric called his hard, bobbing member to his attention. His head fell back as a third tentacle appeared and slid between his legs, running along the cleft of his ass before pushing into him. Dipper's back arched at the invasion, a cry slipping from his lips that Bill quickly muffled with a needy kiss. Dipper's hips rocked with the thrusts of the appendage, moans spilling into his master's mouth and yes, this was good, this was what he wanted. They had never had this, and this was exactly what he needed. His chest swelled and burst again and he screwed his eyes shut as pressure started building up inside him and God, he needed more of Bill. He needed more of the demon, his master, his love, oh dear God.

 

His face and neck grew heated at the thought and an even higher pitched whine escaped him when he heard Bill start to tug off his belt and undo his trousers. The tentacles on Dipper's wrists let up and his hands immediately found their way to Bill's chest, sliding up to shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Bill groaned, their eyes meeting briefly before the demon lifted one of Dipper's legs. The appendage inside him retreated and Dipper gave a whimper that quickly turned into a cry of pleasure as his master filled him instead. Lips covered his again and he was high. He was so high and so relieved that when Bill groaned and whispered, “You're mine,” in his ear, his eyes betrayed him and started watering. Any other time he would have berated himself for the show, but right then with his master inside of him he felt little desire to. His only desire was to belong to the demon currently fucking him.

 

“Yours,” he reiterated.

 

Bill slammed into him, making him scream as the bundle of nerves was struck hard. “You understand what that means?” Dipper's brow furrowed at the question, like he thought he'd known the answer until the inquiry had actually been made. Bill didn't wait for him to respond, as per typical. “You're mine, but I'm also your master.”

 

Dipper would have thought that was obvious until he picked up on the additional emphasis on the word 'your.' His heart skipped a beat and he cried out again as Bill thrust into him much harder and rougher this time, hitting the bundle of nerves again as salt water spilled from Dipper's eyes. Clutching at the demon's back, Dipper pulled Bill's face to kiss him again. Lips pressed feverishly against the demon's, this was the closest he'd get to having Bill tell him he cared, he loved him, and for the first time since entering this deal, this relationship Dipper was certain that not only would things be alright for him but he didn't want an out. He wanted this. He wanted it more than anything.

 

Bill's thrusts grew harsher, less rhythmic. Lips smashed together, teeth clacking, cries spilling from Dipper and into Bill's mouth as Bill's throat vibrated with moans. Dipper came with a shattering force, whole body shuddering after having been without for what seemed to be so long. Bill held him up, the demon the only thing keeping him from falling back on the table.

 

After Bill came, he leaned over Dipper. Their lips still locking, they broke apart after the last of the tremors passed over them. Breaths intermingling and heated against one another's cheeks, their eyes remained closed momentarily. The silence was only broken when Bill began kissing the tracks from Dipper's face, Dipper murmuring half to himself and half to the other, “My master.”

 

He opened his eyes to see that devilish grin that did incredible things to his insides, a mixture of mirth, possessiveness, and also adoration on the demon's face. “My pet.” As if to emphasize his statement, Bill slid a hand up Dipper's chest to hook the collar that was so very much a part of Dipper that its weight was hardly an issue.

 

Dipper smiled, pressing another kiss to his master's lips. “Yours.”

 

After a few more moments of lingering like that, Bill murmured, “Now am I going to have to be the one telling you to get to work?”

 

Dipper snorted. “No. We still have shit to do. Get off me.” The words were halfhearted, and they made the demon chuckle darkly.

 

Bill whispered against his lips, “Good. Because I have no qualms about this deal tilting one sided in my favor.”

 

“I know you don't. Someone has to be responsible here.”

 

“You think that's you?”

 

“I know it's me.”

 

Bill shook his head slightly, making a tutting sound as he uttered, “You're still so dumb.”

 

Dipper didn't take it as an insult. Instead, he kissed him again and declared, “You're pretty dumb yourself.”

 

Bill sighed and made a noise of faux disapproval. “Don't make me punish you. You just got back in my good graces.”

 

Dipper grinned slightly, another set of waves coursing through him. “What kind of punishment?”

 

Bill's grin widened, growing more menacing as anticipation rose up in Dipper's core. “I'm glad you asked.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end, kids. It's been fun. Sorry the kink kinda went downhill. That's what happens when you're a fluffy, vanilla son of a bitch at heart B))


End file.
